no such thing as time
by chinupbuttercup
Summary: a charlie and claire afterlife story. slightly AU due to the fact that i left out the church bit and made it more of a purgatory of sorts.  includes all characters and ships. also some of kate and claire's life after the island. flangsty.
1. Chapter 1

**No such thing as time.**

**Chapter one.**

**A/N: I understand that I'm a bit late with lost and all (more like a year) but I just really wanted to try my hand at some fanfiction and I just adore Charlie and Claire together. I've had this in my desk drawer for a while now and felt that it was time to get it out. This is my first fic and I don't completely understand everything about this site so please bare with me. Really, if you review I will love you forever and ever. I honestly mean that. **

**So the story begins after the remembering scene at the concert. Charlie takes Claire and Aaron to St. Sebastian hospital after her labor. All of the other memory stuff happens at the concert without them. This is a story about their life together in the alternate universe/purgatory. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. That includes John Lennon and his sweet lyrics.**

**On with the literature. **

" _Close your eyes, have no fear._

_The monsters gone, he's on the run and your daddy is here._

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy._

_Out on the ocean, sailing away._

_I can hardly wait to seen you come of age._

_But I guess we'll both just have to be patient._

_Yes, it's a long way to go but in the meantime,_

_Before you cross the street, take my hand._

_Life is just what happens to you while your busy making other plans._

_Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy."_

A heavily accented, raspy vice sang softly. Claire Littleton listened from her hospital bed as she slowly drifted away from sleep. She continued in this surreal state until the dreamlike voice broke into quiet sobs, which instantly brought her back to reality. Her clear blue eyes flickered open, her memory fully cleared by the sight of a young, unconventional looking man with haunted eyes holding her precious baby boy in his arms.

Charlie Pace sat in the corner of the room holding a newborn Aaron as if his own life lay sleeping in his hands. Charlie's small stature shook in sobs at the sight of the beautiful new life, which had been such a large part of his redemption at some point in time, in some other universe. "I'm a big boy now, alright? Rock gods aren't supposed to cry." He breathed for air, tying hard to regain any ounce of masculinity he had left while wiping a tear from his boyish face.

Claire took note of his black lacquered nails and bandage tape wrapped around his fingers, which spelled out the word f-a-t-e. 'Seems appropriate,' she thought. 'Undeniably Charlie.'

A few hours back she thought she would be giving up Aaron for adoption and then heading right back to Australia completely alone. Apparently fate had other plans. That was why she didn't question the impossible situation in which they had found themselves. She didn't really need answers as long as she had her family- her boys.

The ardor and warmth reflecting in Charlie's eyes as he gazed at her son (scratch that) – _their_ son, gave her goose bumps and fuzzy feelings even in the face of all her cynical knowledge. Back on the island she wouldn't have allowed her self to give in to these silly feelings but after everything they had been through, all of the death, fear, and sheer terror she had experienced, she needed this second chance to love one last time. This was right and she wasn't about to loose it again.

She decided to engrain the image in front of her in her mind and keep it there forever. 'Here goes nothing' she thought as butterflies fluttered around in her stomach.

"You make a brilliant father, Charlie." She said in a hesitant whisper. She was treading dangerous ground. This could determine their future as a family, she hated the vulnerable position she was in but weekly smiled at him anyways.

Charlie stood up at the sound of Claire's voice and turned towards her. Her comment was everything he had wanted to hear from her for so long, yet she said it in such a casual manor he wasn't quite sure how to respond. Claire bit her lip nervously, which made Charlie attempt to speak through his shock. "Claire…. I don't even know what to say. This is a really big deal, you know how much I love Aaron, what he means to me. But …me? A dad? …. Are you sure?" "You are his dad, Charlie. You've always been. Who really cares about biology anyway? Y'know, he grew up believing that you were his father, I made sure he appreciated what you did for him." Claire saw tears forming in his eyes. "I just wish I could have been there." "Me too." She gave a long sigh as he looked down at the bundle in his arms before carefully handing him over to Claire.

As she held her son again the dark circles underneath her eyes were outshone by the happiness glowing inside them. Charlie was amazed that even after a brutal natural labor in her sweat and tears Claire was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Of course, he was pretty biased. His callused finger wiped a tear from her soft, sweet face. She giggled thorough tears as Aaron wrapped his tiny hand around her finger. Charlie laughed along with her, relishing in the moment between mother and child. She looked up into his clouded blue-grey eyes and smiled with a look of content.

" You may not exactly scream father but we'll prove them wrong." "If I didn't know better I wouldn't picture you as much of a mother yourself." Claire rolled her eyes in mock annoyance and laughed again. "Neither of us had any idea how to raise a child the first time around either. But we managed." " I think we did alright! Anyways, I might not be in the running for worlds best daddy or anything, but you couldn't find anybody who would work harder at it than me." "I know. That's why I trust you." She squeezed his hand gently still supporting her child with her other arm. "We'll make it through this together." Charlie let go of Claire's hand and sat himself on the bed behind them. He and wrapped his arms around his beautiful, little surrogate family. " I still don't know what to say." "That is definitely a first." "Hey now, I do have a way with words." Yes, that's why it's so surprising. Charlie Pace, the legendary rock star who writes hit songs while totally stoned is at a loss for words? What a day." Charlie laughed with a modest shake of the head. "Apparently you have that effect on me." Claire blushed a little. "I know you have a lot of questions. So do I. But maybe that's the beautiful part - the not knowing."

**If you're reading this … THANK YOU! I love you now. I really do. I promise it gets better and more interesting too. If you review, I can continue doing what I love and then you get to read more. It's a win win situation really. I promise to be forever indebted to you and your stories. (desperate much?) Yes. Yes I am.**

**The next chapter is focused on Kate and Claire after the island. Pretty bittersweet but I felt that it needed to be cleared up. After that there's a bit more Charlie angst which gets me into my plot, also there will be appearances by other character in the next few chapters. Fun stuff for sure. Thanks again.**

**Much love,**

**Buttercup. **


	2. Chapter 2

**no such thing as time. **

**Chapter two. **

**a/n: first off I want to take a moment to thank mediocrebadguy for your sweet words of encouragement. Also, your username is absolutely fantastic. (I'm a little bit in love with jack Johnson.) **

**Alright, so this chapter is pretty sad and short. I promise the next will be much, much longer. it starts after the plane lands in LAX after the show ends. But I'm sure you could've figured that out on your own. So smart. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. (Pretty please don't sue me.)**

Claire knew fear all to well. It had been her constant companion after everything she cared about was brutally taken from her. Fear had slowly become her one last solid emotion and it had made her mind sick. So, of course, it wasn't the fear that was unusual, it was the timing. How could she be so afraid of the very day she had been waiting for ever since crashing on that godforsaken island. She had just landed back in LA, there was a big wide world out there waiting for her. People she once loved with new lives formed without her, new technology and new knowledge. The entire world had moved on and progressed yet here she was barefoot in the airport bathroom desperately sobbing into her hands.

Maybe it was because she hadn't seen civilization in so long and maybe it overwhelmed her. Maybe she realized how much time was stolen from her life or maybe she cried because she had always pictured returning to the "real world" with the rest of the survivors who were now long gone. Maybe it was more specific, she had always imagined returning with a baby in her arms hand in hand with a certain man walking beside her. It was probably all of the above but mostly just the fact that she really wasn't sure who she was anymore.

She sat in her own filth on the ground in a corner in the bathroom. She could take the nasty, confused stares of woman walking by, what she couldn't take was all those bloody cameras in her face and selfish, greedy reporters pointing and yelling at her and calling her "savage girl" all to get her attention and make some quick money. They didn't even care that she had been on an island for three years filled with pure evil. She deserved better and she needed help. No, she was not just some barbarian, she was a human being who had been through more hell then they could ever imagine and had endured more loss then she was capable of handling. What she needed was support not a bunch of cameras in her face.

She closed her eyes and rested her throbbing head against the cold, marble wall. She let all the noise fade to the background until a woman's American accent yelled her name. "Oh my God! Claire, honey, what happened? I've been looking for you for the last hour. Claire slowly opened up her eyes and saw Kate's frantic, freckled, wide -eyed face in her space. "I'm fine, Kate. Really. I just needed to get away from the crowds for a minute." "I understand that it's a lot to handle but I need you to stay with me, okay?" Kate still felt the need to baby her, it annoyed Claire but she had been the one acting like a baby in the first place. She guessed she must deserve it. "Okay," Claire answered with a nod. "Now, let's go find a taxi and get away from here." Kate reached for her hand and lifted her off the ground. It was incredibly difficult to hide from reporters with Claire in rags but the twosome managed to escape without any serious problems.

They made it out of the airport, found a taxi, and headed to Kate's apartment. There wasn't much conversing that night and each felt a little awkward, like there was so much to say but neither wanted to say it. Kate showed Claire to the guest bedroom and told her to get a goodnight sleep, tomorrow was a big day.

Claire thought she would've been excited to sleep on a real bed, it was something she had missed about civilization. But much to her disappointment, she found herself lying wide-awake, unable to get comfortable on the fluffy bed. She wasn't used to the mattress, it was too soft, much too soft. So with a long sigh she grabbed the thin blanket off the bed and settled herself on the hard, wood floor. She curled up into a pathetic looking ball and drifted to sleep.

The next morning it took Claire a while to fully process her current, domestic surroundings. It shocked her and she took a while to force herself to get up off the ground. Today was the day she would finally she her son again. It was still very early when she made her way towards the kitchen to see Kate making pancakes. "Good morning." Said Kate without turning away from her cooking. "How was your first night back on the main land?" "Strange." Claire answered honestly. Kate laughed, "It doesn't get any easier. Every morning I wake up expecting to be in my little makeshift tent, it never goes away." "that's not very encouraging." "Sorry, let's change the subject. How about Aaron, you excited to see him again?" "Excited? Yes. But mostly scared to death." She said it with a bit of humor in her voice but Kate could see behind the façade. She was terrified and she would probably have a breakdown at some point today.

Kate decided to keep the conversation light hoping to avoid the truth. She spent breakfast describing how big Aaron had gotten and gushing about what a great little boy he had become. Then she explained how she and Claire could tell Aaron about his mother. During all of Kate's conversations Claire just smiled and nodded, the fear becoming almost unbearable. She tried to hold it in like a decent human being but despite her desperate attempt at retaining sanity tears began pouring out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she began to rant. Kate walked over to her and rubbed her back in comfort, "It's okay to be scared Claire. This is a really big deal, I'm scared too." "It's just … I don't know how to be a mother anymore. I was never really good at it anyway and now after everything … I don't know if I can do it Kate." "You were scared the first time too but you did it anyway. You were a great mother." "I was a different person back then. Besides I had everyone helping me. I had Charlie." "You still miss him. Don't you?" "It never goes away, time doesn't help at all. I never really knew how much I cared about him until he died, time was so meaningless then. I think that maybe if I could've had closure I wouldn't have done what I did afterward. Maybe things would've been different." Claire was crying harder now, pent up emotions finally coming out into the open. "You still have me, you're not alone. We'll raise Aaron together with your mom and we can talk about anything. We're both grieving, Claire. I didn't get closure with Jack either." Claire nodded in agreement. "But what if I traumatize him, Kate? I mean, look at me, I'm a bleeding savage now." "No your not. Maybe you will never be who you were before the crash but I refuse to believe that that…. That thing has stolen you forever. Your friendship means more to me than anything else, I know that you're still in there and I won't believe that you're nothing but a savage." Claire gave Kate a friendly hug and smiled through her tears. "Okay?" "...Okay."

After a long moment of silence with both women processing their new rekindled friendship, Kate brought Claire to her closet and picked out the smallest articles of clothing she could find. Claire went to the bathroom and tried on the clothes, despite her efforts they wouldn't stay on her sickly thin body. In three years her already small frame had become dangerously thin. Kate brought her a belt and Claire tied it as tight as she could. She was basically drowning in the clothes but they were better then the filthy rags she had worn before. After taking a long, much needed shower, Kate chopped Claire's dread locks off leaving short, curly locks. Claire stood facing the mirror, staring at herself as if it was the first time.

Kate quickly got herself ready and then dialed Carole Littleton's number on to her phone. After a long sigh she placed the phone up to her ear. Carole took the news with a gasp, scream, and then began to sob, "thank you … thank you so much." She said through her tears, her accent becoming thicker with her frenzy.

Kate went to see Claire and told her it was time to go. She hadn't wanted to be in the same room during the call afraid that it would make her change her mind. She was terrified of seeing her mom after what she had been responsible for her mother's coma. Then there was the fact that she had a baby, was lost on an island, and was now a bit on the insane side. What would her mother say? She would never understand. Once they reached Carole's hotel room Claire's heart stopped. Kate saw the fear in her eyes and flashed her an encouraging smile. Claire took a deep breath, "I'm ready." She knocked on the door hesitantly.

Before she could even prepare herself her mother had swung open the door and was now embracing her with the passion that only a mother could give. "Claire!" she yelled, "I missed you so much, I love you." "I love you too" she whispered, relief evident in her voice. After a long moment in each other's arms, Carole let them in. she finally got a good look at her daughter. "I'm sorry Claire, for everything. I hope we can start fresh." "Your sorry? No, I'm sorry. I took years of your life away. I was so horrible and you were just trying to do was be a good mother. I understand that now, after Aaron." Carlole gave her another quick, teary-eyed hug. "Do you want me to wake Aaron up?" "No," Claire answered quickly, "I've decided to make this really casual. I want to make it as easy as possible for him." "I understand. This will give us time to talk anyways." "Where to begin?" questioned Kate. "I guess I should start at the beginning, you deserve the truth." Said Claire. And with that Claire started to explain the entire story in great detail and even more emotion. By the end all three of them were sobbing bitter tears of sadness and anger.

"It wasn't all torture." Said Claire reaching over to hold her mother who was now shaking in sobs. "My feelings are mixed about the island. Of course if I could change it I would, I hate it, absolutely loath it and what it did to me. Part of me wants it to go crumbling into the ocean rotting and eroding for all eternity. But then there is this very small, buried side of me that wouldn't trade the wonderful feelings I had there for the world. I have so many confusing, conflicting feelings. They're hard to sort out, impossible to separate really. I won't ever forget nights spent under the stars where I first opened up, where I fell in love. I remember when Charlie would look into my eyes like he cared and we would talk for hours. Sometimes we wouldn't talk at all, we would just sit next to each other in the quiet and everything was okay. And then there was Aaron, to think that I didn't want him! He wasn't a mistake at all, he taught me love. If it wasn't for the island I wouldn't have met Charlie or kept Aaron. I wouldn't have known what it means to really love."

Carole leaned over to hold her daughter and Kate joined as well. Before they knew it all three women were holding on to each other for dear life as they cried. They stayed this way for a while until they heard the pitter patter of little feet entering the room. Claire looked up and saw the little blond boy with light skin and big blue eyes. He was beautiful, he was perfect, he was hers.

They all stared at each other for a minute unsure of what to do or say next. Then slowly and cautiously they Aaron walked over to Kate and hid behind her, his eyes glued on Claire. "Who is she mommy?" he whispered in her ear. Going against evey fiber in her being Kate put on her brave face. "Sweetie, this is going to be hard for you to understand. I need you to be brave for me, okay? This is Claire, she's your … she's your mommy." "No she's not!" Claire's heart broke. "I know it's confusing, this is hard for all of us. I'm not really your mom, I was just taking care of you while she was gone. But she's back now and she loves you Aaron, she loves you so much." He held tighter to Kate and began to cry. Claire wanted to garb him and hold him tight, kiss and hug him senseless but she knew better than that. She stayed calm on the outside "I know your frightened." She whispered, "I am too. This really is no way to meet your mother, but you'll always have me. From now on, no matter what happened before or what happens next, alright? All three of us, always and forever." Aaron poked his little back out. "Promise?" "Promise." Although she smiled Aaron could see through her façade. Babies really did know these things. Slowly he let go of Kate and very carefully made his way over to Claire. He didn't say a word. He just wiped the tears from her eyes and gave her a hesitant hug. The tears she was holding back now ran freely down her face. "I love you Aaron."


	3. Chapter 3

no such thing as time.

Chapter three.

a/n: so first off, sorry that the last chapter was sort of rough. the amount of errors was mostly because I had an earthquake near my house yesterday. I was writing alone, in the dark, on pins and needles, waiting for aftershock. (very scary.) I'm not exactly sure how to edit on this website yet so if anyone would like to explain, that would be great.

Now to the lighter side of life, I would like to thank dharma-queen2342 (yet another fantastic username) for the lovely review. It looks like I'll be continuing this, so thanks for inspiring me!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words on the page.

….

It was in the middle of the night when Charlie was awoken to a strange tingling feeling beneath his muscles. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Claire with her gorgeous face framed by blond curls and a hint of a smile on her lips, totally content. She lay beside him with his twitching arms wrapped around her. He tried to move his head off the pillow but was overwhelmed by a wave of heat and nausea. He lay his head back down in defeat, the plastic bag in his shoe feeling heavier and more heavenly by the moment. God, he wanted it. He wanted it so bad.

The only thing worse than craving heroin was actually using it. Yeah, it felt good at first. Hell, it felt bloody fantastic! But then after the high wore off the guilt would set in and then he hated himself even more than usual. But this wasn't about him, this was about Claire and Aaron. He would never, ever do that to them, he couldn't hurt them.

A few hours back Claire had wanted clarity on the motives behind his death at the looking glass station. He had supplied her honest answers explaining Desmond's vision and the chance at rescue. Although he told the story with extreme modesty, Claire seemed very touched. She had called him a hero. Him? A hero? That's what stung. She still saw him as the man he was on the island, but despite the memory his many issues hadn't just miraculously vanished. The memory of his former redeemed self didn't change the fact that a little baggie of brown sugar was burning a hole in his checkerboard vans.

He still was in fact, the most undeserving man in the history of the world, ever.

A complete waste of a human being who could never come close to deserving her beauty, goodness, and virtue or the innocence of her child. Yes, he loved them. He loved them so fervently yet so purely. It seemed so innocent but he knew at the heart of it, the act had to be selfish. Letting himself love them when he didn't deserve them was selfish. Letting her love him was even worse. Nice girls like her didn't end up with washed up, druggies like him. Maybe they would try and live on the wild side and hang around one, maybe they would spend a night with one all for the adventure and intrigue, maybe they would dare to believe they could change one, or hope for a chance at love. But then they would get their hearts broken once they realized the brutal reality of life with a so called, "bad boy" and come to their senses. He wasn't joking when he told Claire just how worthless men could be back on the island, what she didn't know was how much he meant it. Guys like him _were_ worthless.

What he couldn't understand was why in the world she would want to put up with his emotional roller coaster. Why would she want to put up with all his baggage and unpredictable behavior when she could have a nice, kind, smart man? He would be clean cut and strait laced with a stable job, the kind of guy you'd actually want to bring home to mum, one that would look picture perfect in all the Christmas cards. He would take her out to fancy dinners and buy her sparkling jewelry, he would be a great father to Aaron, he would be a good example. Someone Claire would actually want Aaron to look up to.

He couldn't understand why she would choose a moody man who acts like a child and never does anything right over that.

He felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Despite his mental and physical pain he forced himself to get up out of the bed and he quickly ran to the bathroom. He then proceeded to give in to the sickness that had been developing in his mind. Mustering the little strength he still obtained, Charlie moved his shivering body to lean up against the wall. At first he tried to convince himself that he was just hungry. After all, ever since his brush with death on the plane all he had consumed was heroin, Chinese take out, and a large quantity of alcohol. But the truth came to harsh for denial when he felt a rush of cold and threw up again. He was beginning withdrawal and not Claire, Aaron, or even the memory of his redeemed self could stop it.

Hoping to make the dizziness subside, he laid down on the firm ground. It didn't work the pain remained constant. He closed his eyes and then felt a cold sensation beneath him, he opened his eyes to see water ruthlessly filling the bathroom through an open window. In a panic he stood up and ran towards the door, grabbing the knob and twisting it with all his might. It was to no avail, the door was locked.

Charlie began to panic as he watched the water grow higher. As he frantically looked around the room for anything useful, he noticed his own bold, uppercase handwriting written across the palm of his hand reading' "not penny's boat."

The waves beat against him and a familiar, Scottish voice calling his name rang loudly in his head. He blinked hard, trying desperately to fight off the sudden need for sleep engulfing him. He attempted to thrust his body at the thick door. He continued to do so while yelling for help until all his strength was gone.

Then every thing went black.

…

Okay, I know, I know. That was disappointingly short. I'm so very sorry. (Please forgive me.) But I already have the next chapter written out and it'll be typed and published tomorrow. The next chapter is focused on Claire's reaction to Charlie's withdrawal, I'm actually pretty excited about it.

Reviews would be very encouraging, I obviously like happy reviews the most but I don't even mind critique as long as it's constructive.

Thanks again darlings.


	4. Chapter 4

No such thing as time.

Chapter four.

Disclaimer: if I owed lost I would be writing a 7th season or maybe even a movie by now. But no, I'm just writing a fanfiction for my own personal enjoyment.

a/n: just wanted to thank LillithxLuna, (a fantastic writer, who I will be reviewing tomorrow) for the story alert, Debbielostgirl for adding me to her favorite stories (such an honor), and to dharma-queen2342 once again for her story alert. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Hope this is somewhat realistic.

…

Claire awoke to Aaron's cries in the middle of the night. She had fallen asleep to memories of her alternate self and woke up feeling like she knew much more about herself then she did before falling asleep. Some facts she was happy to remember, most she wasn't. She turned her head to see the pillow beside her vacant, Charlie nowhere in sight. In surprise, she quickly sat up, the action overwhelming her with dizziness. She supposed she must still be feeling the effects of childbirth and cautiously lifted her body off the bed. As she stood up, she noted how much lighter she felt, it wasn't just nausea. Her stomach was still somewhat swollen but nowhere near the size it was before. She turned the lights on and went to calm her wailing son. Holding her Aaron tight, she walked around the room and began searching for the dopey Englishman. But alas, still no Charlie sightings.

Claire had to keep telling herself to calm down. She knew Charlie wouldn't just up and leave her. That would be completely uncharacteristic for him, especially after the conversations that had taken place a few hours back. If it had been anyone else she would have assumed they had been overwhelmed by responsibility, too afraid of giving their life away to care for a child. They would be selfish, arrogant, and act as if they had it all figured out. Anyone else could be just like Thomas and she wouldn't even be the least bit surprised. But for Charlie this was strange.

No, Charlie would never leave her. That was certain. Unless of course it was in some heroic endeavor that he believed would save her life. Of course, she was pretty sure that heroic, suicide missions weren't in the fate cards today, not after everything that had happened. Yes, she knew she was being irrationally paranoid but that's what happens when you've found the person you love after being separated from for a lifetime only to have him vanish in the middle of the night with no explanation. He just had to be around here somewhere.

Then she saw a dim light peeking out underneath the bathroom door. At first she felt an extreme amount of relief at the sight, followed by the embarrassment that comes when you realize your own stupidity. 'God, Claire,' she thought, 'how silly can you get, working yourself into a frenzy when he's only in the bathroom.' She was becoming over protective, almost Charlie like. Two clingy people in a relationship never ended well, this needed to stop. So she carefully laid Aaron back in his crib and lay back in bed. Two minutes went by, then five, and then ten. Call it mother's intuition but she just knew something was wrong, she could feel it. She didn't want to accuse him of drug use, she really didn't. But what else could it be? And to think just a few hours ago she had let him take full responsibility over Aaron, how could she let herself be so vulnerable again. It must be that stupid "love is blind" stuff or something. But he was different now, he was the person from the island, right? Just because they were in an alternate universe didn't mean he was a different person and the Charlie she had come to know wouldn't dare hurt her. She had officially succeeded to confuse herself and mess up her mind as usual.

Walking up to the bathroom door, she gently knocked. "um, Charlie, are you in there?" she whispered. When she didn't hear him she tried again a little louder this time. But again, nothing. Finally, after knocking for quite some time she hesitantly grabbed the knob afraid of what she might find inside. As she opened the door she felt a thud against its surface. She quickly looked down to see a seemingly lifeless Charlie limp on the floor below her. "Charlie?" she yelled falling down to her knees beside him. She pat his face harder then she had intended in hopes of waking him. "Please, please wake up," she began to cry, "please wake up for me, okay?" He shivered and she almost squealed at the movement indicating life. He mumbled and stammered indistinctly underneath his breath. Claire yelled out his name until he finally replied' "Claire?" "Yes!" "Just making sure," he whispered. She smiled, even if he was high, at least he was okay.

She carefully tried to lift him up after his eyes had fluttered open. He groaned, still a little distant but coming back to consciousness slowly. He leaned against the wall in evident pain and Claire stared at him with concern. "Are you high?" She asked with a little more anger in her voice then she meant. He went wide-eyed, "Claire, I assure you, I am not using. Promise." He said it so seriously she almost believed him. Almost. "You were passed out on the bathroom floor, Charlie. I'm not stupid! And to think that Aaron is sleeping right outside, how could you?" "I know that, just let me finish, alright?" she stood up and crossed her arms waiting for a good excuse. "I passed out because, number one, I'm exhausted. Two, I haven't eaten in days. And most notably, three, I haven't used." Claire just stared hurt, angry, and confused. "Look, Claire, I'm beginning withdrawal. I'm sorry." Claire felt horrible, he was going through pain to quit drugs and here she was accusing him of being high. She looked down uncomfortably' "oh." Charlie started fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable with the situation as well. He looked as if he was waiting for her to yell at him and run away in disgust, but she didn't yell or even move. She just stood there. They rarely talked about his addiction, certainly never without irrational screaming, crying, and emotional outbursts. This was new.

Oddly enough, Claire didn't feel the urge to slap Charlie across his face as hard as she could and then storm off crying bitter tears like she did before. Instead, she just wanted be there for him. And it wasn't out of pity either. It hurt her to see him like this yet it drew her to him, she sat back down beside him cautiously. "I'm sorry, I should have trusted you." He looked down not wanting to meet her eye. "No, you shouldn't have." "Well, I do." "Why?" He questioned sharply. He closed his eyes tightly to ward off tears, ashamed of the way he was acting. "I'm sorry, it just…hurts." She looked at him with sympathy and lay against the wall next to him. "You're being so brave," she whispered sweetly. Claire must have been the definition of grace strait out of the dictionary, she really must have. And it just made him feel worse.

"Don't look at me like that, like I'm some bleeding hero. I'm a bad person, Claire." Her heart broke for him, he looked at her as if she was better than him somehow. It was hard to love someone who hated himself with such an ardent passion, barely still holding on to life in his own self- destruction. "Charlie…" "It's cool Claire, you don't have to stay" "No, it's not that, it's just… I realized that I may not fully know Charlie Pace 'the rock god' or whatever, I realized that a long time ago. But what I do know is the real you. The Charlie who used to follow me around the beach with an empty little mason jar and a guitar slung on his back, singing half remembered Kinks lyrics and making funny faces at Aaron. So yes, I'm going to look at you 'like that' because you are, in fact, a 'bleeding hero' and because … I love you." Claire was surprised at how easy that was, it just slipped out before she could even stop it. Charlie's looked shocked, unsure of what to do next. "I …. love you too, Claire. But … are you sure?" "I had plenty of time to contemplate it after you died. So yes, I'm sure." "But you don't need a stupid git like me polluting your life, not to mention turnip head." "Please, Charlie, stop." "I'm serious. You are the only person I've ever honestly loved, and it's so pure. I can't remember the last time I thought of a girl that way, probably because I never have. Liam would have a fit if he knew. But there you are with those big, blue eyes and you look at me like I matter or something. Like you care. And your smiles are real, there's no need for needles in the arm or bits of heated tinfoil, it's just…real. I'm not used to that, it's what I lived for. I guess it's what I died for too. And now, I'm still a little bit dead inside and I'm afraid that's the price of what I've done to myself. The addiction, it won't ever go away, it'll get better but it won't go away." "You're not the only one with regrets y'know. You're not the one who put the person they loved in a state where they needed a machine to just keep breathing, or got pregnant only for the father to get up and leave you as if he was never there, you've never been the cause for someone you love's suicide, or left your baby helplessly in the jungle, or gone kill crazy looking for the very child you left. So yeah, you'll always have your addiction to worry about and I'll always look at Aaron and remember all the things I almost did to him, how much I could have hurt him. But none of that matters anymore. So could just please forgive yourself so that we can move on with our lives?"

Charlie had never seen her so determined and wasn't sure how to respond so he just nodded. She smiled as he looked deeply in her eyes holding on to her strange confidence, which he lacked so much of. He leaned over putting his arms around her in thanks. She returned the gesture, happily laying her head in his chest. They had a long and hard journey to forgiveness ahead of them. They were confused, broken, jaded and had been tossed aside by two very different universes yet through their struggles they found each other. And now they were both just content to hold on to each other for dear life finding comfort in the love and support which would save them once more.

…

Was it too fluffy? I couldn't tell. I hope it was in character. Let me know, will ya?

Next chapter will feature other characters! Yay, how exciting! But I want to warn you that after a chapter or two I'll be updating a little less often only because I have this orientation thing and then I'll be at camp for a week.

Bad news- no updates during camp.

Good news-inspiration!

(By the way, I'll let you know if I meet a charming, British rock star during my jungle camping excursion.) *crosses fingers hopefully.

Much love.


	5. Chapter 5

No such thing as time.

Chapter five.

Disclaimer: I don't own lost. like y'know … duh. (that was my fan girl interpretation, not to shabby, eh?)

a/n: it's been far too long sense my last post. This is quite shameful really, I actually have a great number of excuses that I could use right now but instead, I'll take the high road and just say that I am so very sorry, would you pretty please forgive me? Alright, first off, I would like to give a great deal of thanks to Ada23Mon. for the reassurance, love that. And I will most definitely keep em' coming. Itsall4love, I'm so glad that the story is keeping you interested! I'm also happy that I made you cry… Wait, that sounded mean. Well, you know what I meant. ;) Yankeehater, thank you so much, I'm so glad your enjoying the story! And of course, StrawberryxSunlight, who made me giddy like a school girl after reading all her encouragement. I'm gad your feeling loved, we must be kindred spirits or something.

Before we get on to the real reading, I just wanted to tell you a story that you may or may not find interesting from my absence. I was working as a photographer at a camp, which is really a cool job by the way. And see, at this camp all of the counselors are from different countries from all around the world. Well, I met this guy from New Zealand, who I got along with quite well. He was going to be in the new Hobbit movie coming out but he couldn't because he had to come work at this camp. BUT … he was in the original Lord of the Rings as a background hobbit and guess who he knows? Yeah, your right, Dominic Monahan! Which is funny because I'm writing this story about Charlie, who in reality, is Dominic Monahan. Anyways, I thought some of you might be interested or something. I was.

On with the literature.

"Dr. Shephard?"

"Excuse me, doctor?"

Jack Shephard stood with both elbows propped up carelessly on the front desk at St. Sabastian Hospital. He stared absentmindedly into the oblivion. It was something like de ju vu except a thousand times worse. It was vivid, as if the reality he had become accustomed to was only secondary and his vision was all that was real. After remembering his former life at the concert the night before, he had been having these odd little flashbacks here and there or whenever he experienced something similar to his former life.

"Yeah, sorry. I just zoned out for a second there, I'm fine." The nurse behind the counter nodded skeptically. She had always known the doctor as a very serious, focused man, 'zoning out' was extremely uncharacteristic. "Right… Okay then, I think I may have found her." Jack's eyes went wide as the nurse leaned in squinting at her computer screen. "It's L-i-t-t-l-e-t-o-n, right?" "Yes, that's her! Does this mean you found the room number?" "Doctor Shephard, I'm not sure she needs any assistance right now. We're discharging Miss Littleton later today." "And I understand that … Martha." He took a quick glance at her nametag before continuing. "This is completely separate from work, that's why I'm here so early. Claire Littleton is my sister and I just really need to see her right now, I need to make sure she's okay. You can understand that, right?" "Alright … Jack." Martha assumed they were now on a first name basis after the way he was talking to her, as if they were suddenly best friends or something. "I'll give you the number, but only from the pure bit of empathy burning in my human heart. But if anybody asks, I'll go strait back to being a walking medical textbook and completely deny it." "Thank God." Jack gave a deep sigh of relief as Martha wrote the number down on a sticky note. "I will do all that is in my power to get you a promotion." Jack whispered before running off to the elevator.

Jack had spent the previous night with Kate, it was one he would never forget. Magical in every sense of the word, all the stars were perfectly alined in his universe and he was feeling good. But earlier that morning, he found Kate in a panic, afraid of getting caught, or even worse, getting Jack in trouble with the law. Part of her always wanted to run but she couldn't. She just couldn't get herself to leave Jack, not after everything. He had assured her that getting his freedom taken away would be nothing compared to the pain of his heart being ripped into a million pieces at her absence. And so she stayed. Together they decided that until thay could form a better plan, Kate would hide out in Jack and Davis's apartment. But even after everything seemed all figured out. Jack could sense there was more weighing heavily on her mind.

After quite a bit of prodding, Jack found the source of her worry- a certain new mother and her little Aussie baby. One had been her only constant companion and best friend who grew to be closer than a sister, the other she considered her son in another life. The last she had seen of them was the previous night when they had jumped into a taxi without a giving a clear way of communication for the future. They had left the concert even before reuniting with the rest of the castaways or saying goodbye, but Kate thought she heard Charlie say something about getting Claire to the hospital, so she hoped Jack could find them and bring the threesome back to see her. Jack wasn't about to let Kate worry, so he swore to find them and went speeding over to the hospital in an instant.

Of course, it wasn't just Kate's concern that him especially enthused and determined. No, it went deeper than that. Claire was, in fact, his sister. The half part really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, they shared the very same father and that was enough to think about. But he shared more with her than just blood, they had been through so much together he would have considered her a sister anyway. Her son, his nephew, had been something of a son to him for a very short period of time. The young, heroic rock star was like a little brother to him who he felt a strange mix of emotions towards. On one hand, he was reminded of the withdrawal and Claire's kidnapping. Those times, he had wanted to help Charlie, to save him. He wanted to protect him like any good friend or brother would do. On the other hand, however, he had an enormous amount of respect for the Brit, after his death he had become something like a character of legend. No one would even think of being so disrespectful as to think of him as lowly or week, but instead, a hero.

All three figures represented an enormous amount of guilt, regret, and utter shame for Jack.

He could have told Charlie no. He could have thought through his decision to send him down to the looking glass station before acting on pure impulse instead of using his mind. He should have realized it was a suicide mission, that it was hopeless. But he was to caught up in solving what he thought the problem was, desperately trying to find what he thought the answer was, when in reality, he had his priorities completely out of order. Getting rescued was not really of any importance compared to loosing a precious life, or the harsh affect that the death would bring to the people who loved him. He should have known, he should have said no. But he didn't, and Charlie died, dozens died. They were all terrified and scarred and rescue wasn't worth it in the least. The "real world" was hell. It was even worse than the island, which so many depressed castaways had actually believed was hell. He ruined everything, it was all his fault. And all he had to say was n-o.

Sure, he hadn't physically killed Claire but he killed the Claire that he had once known. She used to be sweet and independent, sensitive and strong. She became shriveled and withered, terrified and paranoid. She lost her mind, she lost her sanity, and it was all because he abandoned her. He knew she had been devastated by Charlie's death but he didn't realize how much of that pain had manifested itself into a mental illness only exposed by the sheer terror of being completely and utterly alone. After he found out that she was his sister, the guilt became even stronger and more unbearable. It was then that he realized just what a mess he had made.

Due to the shame he felt at the mention of the two, raising Aaron with Kate was a constant struggle. When he looked at Aaron he saw Claire all alone on the island of monsters, murders, and mystery. He tried to be a good father figure, he really did. But every time he sang Aaron to sleep he thought of Charlie on the beach gazing at the child with so much love, singing half remembered tunes of the golden age of music with unashamed passion. He saw him dying without a funeral, without a ceremony, tombstone, or a flower placed lovingly on his grave. Nothing but a faded memory and a forgotten legacy that lived on through the innocence of the little boy sleeping in peaceful ignorance.

When Hurley had told him that he was envisioning the late rock star, Jack was terrified. He took to denial, afraid of the truth. Hugo told him that Charlie didn't want him raising Aaron, that he had no right to be a father. Jack had always known this was true but hearing it spoken aloud confirmed all of his doubts and destroyed his relationship with Kate. His life fell apart, he turned to addiction and alcoholism, then finally to an attempted suicide. In his process of fixing everything and everyone in his life, he had broken himself. His life rendered unfixable.

Due to the threesome's unintentional yet fateful impact on his life, Jack had many fears of seeing them again. Would they hate him for what he had done? Could they ever forgive him? He wasn't even sure if they blamed him for everything or not. He hated the uncertainty, but his fear could not penetrate the sincere love that he felt for all of them. They were his family. And that's what you do for your family, you put aside insecurities and shame and you allow yourself to be vulnerable in hopes of receiving unconditional love.

Jack reached the room that held Charlie, Claire, and Aaron. He approached the door and knocked lightly without full commitment to the action. After waiting for a few minutes, pondering the situation in complete torture, the door opened slightly. A bright blue eye was exposed from behind the small opened crack.

Then in a flash of blond wavy locks he heard the door swing open and felt a little figure embrace him tightly, arms thrown around his neck. Jack heard Claire's thick accent squeal his name and as she pulled back he saw her megawatt smile for the first time in ages. He smiled back in relief, his voice shaking. "Claire, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for letting Charlie go to the looking glass, I'm sorry for leaving you all alone. I thought it was destiny, I was so caught up in fixing everything I couldn't even think strait. I shouldn't have left you there, I should've looked harder, I should have stayed behind."

"But you came back Jack."

She smiled reassuringly and then he knew this was worth all the pain he had to endure. Amidst all of the devastation he had found a family. Because after all, the only thing in life that really matters is the true, genuine, unconditional love of other human beings. Her forgiveness symbolized Jack's hope of a future without guilt or regret. His past life was just a dusty road leading him back to nowhere, he was ready for the new life.

A/N: a little jack emotional healing for ya. I know I'm horrible for leaving out even a smidgen of Charlie and Claire cuteness but I just needed to give you an idea of life outside of the hospital room. But have no fear, the next chapter is devoted to Charlie and Claire and will center around both of them again. Also, the next chapter should be up tomorrow night. Yay! I think I've formed a schedule of sorts and worked out time to write this, which is very relieving. Of course, by "time to write this" I mean 2am. But hey, it's my stress reliever and I like it. so there.

Jack is hard to write, did I portray him alright? Yes, no, maybe? Let me know, yeah? I love everyone who has taken time to review this experiment of mine and who have kept me inspired.

Respectfully yours.


	6. Chapter 6

No such thing as time.

Chapter six.

Disclaimer: I never have nor ever will own lost. must you always remind me? Sigh.

a/n. so from now on I shall not make any more promises. For some odd reason every time I say I'm going to do something it becomes about twenty billion times harder to actually do it. Anyways, things have been especially crazy lately, loads of Greek and Latin and things that make being a lone artist in a sea of nerds extremely challenging. (I actually just wrote five essays, crazy!) But I feel like I've kept up with this pretty darn well considering the insanity that is my life. (oh yeah, and after reading over the last chapter I realized that I wrote "Jack and Davis's apartment." It was an accident. I know Jack's son's name is David.) haha ;)

I wanna thank mediocrebadguy for the review, I'm so glad your back! I really am trying to mix both angst and fluff in a way that is realistic and in harmony, so I really appreciate that you noticed! StrawberryxSunlight, you made my day so I had to return the favor, but of course! I'm so happy that you liked the way I portrayed Jack as well as the Jate bit. I hope you like this next chappie too ;) Ada23mon, I was never a huge Jack fan myself, that's exactly why I wanted to give him a clean slate in this fic. Here's more CC for ya!

Itsall4love, thank ya much darlin! So glad your liking it (:

Not really sure how ya'll are gonna feel about this one, it's kinda different. A lot more dialogue and such, I'm not really a big fan myself. Just saying.

….

"I need to ask you a favor."

Claire quietly shut the door of the hospital room and turned towards Jack as she walked back into the narrow hallway. "Claire, is everything okay?" "No, no, everything's fine. Fantastic actually. It's just that … well, today is day one of Charlie's heroin withdrawal." Claire looked down at her feet uncomfortably, Jack looked at her with eyes full of empathy. He knew the last thing Claire wanted was for him to flower up a sympathy speech full of 'I'm so sorry' and 'it's gonna be okay.' She especially didn't need pity. So he just cut strait to the point, "what can I do?" "I'm not sure there's much you can do, except try and talk some sense into him." "What do you mean?" Jack gave her a quizzical look; afraid of whatever she would say next. "See, he has this irrational fear of letting me or Aaron out of his eyesight. I know it sounds silly but I think he's afraid that if I'm gone too long I'll just cease to exist … or something. I sorta feel the same way too, like it's almost not real. But I can get over it for the greater good. It's him I'm worried about. He needs to get help jack,

I need to get him to rehab."

"Claire, you're the only one he actually listens to. If he won't listen to you he's definitely not going to listen to me."

"I think he needs to hear it from someone else, he looks up to you Jack. Couldn't you just … try?"

Jack walked into the room with hesitation. He knew that Charlie would get defensive once he started to convince him to leave Claire for his own reasons. And honestly, Jack would much rather stay on Charlie's good side instead of going all crazy intervention on him. But his doctor mentality knew better, he had to fix him.

Addicts are prone to odd behavior especially when abruptly going cold turkey, Charlie was unpredictable enough as it was and Jack really wasn't sure what to expect. He figured that Charlie might hate him at first but he'd come around at some point and thank him for it. So he held his head high and prepared for the beating.

Charlie sat Indian style in the corner, his old, red guitar propped naturally on his lap. He seemed to be struggling to keep from twitching, his fingers not obeying his mind as he strummed forcefully at the strings. Jack wasn't sure if he wanted to interrupt the little antisocial concert or not, so he just stood silently, leaning against the wall waiting for his presence to be felt. Charlie looked up at the doctor and laughed, there was just too much to say for words to be of any assistance. Jack joined in joyfully as Charlie hopped up, engulfing him in an overly enthusiastic hug.

"You're here to give me the don't-you-dare-hurt-my-sister talk, am I right?"

"So Claire told you then?"

"Yeah, right after I found out that Hurley and I are actually long lost twins separated at birth." Jack shook his head in unbelief. Even during detox Charlie could not be serious. "Well, I see your sarcasm is still intact."

"It is a coping mechanism after all." Charlie's tone became serious and Jack could see the pain in his eyes that he had been desperately trying to hide through his goofy façade. "How's it going, Charlie?" Jack's voice matched Charlie's in seriousness and suggested that he knew exactly what Charlie was going through, he didn't have to hide anymore.

"It's … going."

"You need to ask for help Charlie."

"Claire put you up to this, didn't she?"

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. I'm really in no mood for a therapy session nor a barricade of medical threats, so if that's all you're here for then your wasting your time."

"Your not a waste of my time, I don't think you understand."

"No, _you_ don't understand. I can't leave them, Jack. I won't do it."

"Stop trying to act strong, Charlie. Strength isn't about hanging in there, it's about letting go, that's the true test of character. You need to stop pretending like your not damaged, like your okay. You can't change what you've done, now you have to find the courage to grow strong where you've been broken."

"Who made you the shrink?"

"Please, Charlie, your hurting her."

Charlie looked away from Jack, avoiding his intense gaze. He scanned the room for Claire and Aaron but realized they weren't in the room. She must have left to give the two men some space, she really did put Jack up to this after all. He looked back at jack, secretly wondering if there was any truth behind his painful words and whispered as if he was telling some kind of secret.

"Leaving is what would hurt her, she's been abandoned by everyone she ever cared about. I can't do that to her, I don't want to be just another person in her long list of people who have left her behind."

"Yeah, it is going to be extremely hard for her. Aaron will experience his first few weeks without a father figure, she'll be up all night trying to get him to sleep, she'll be alone, confused and afraid just like you."

"And this is going to convince be how?"

"Because it's worth it and she knows that. You can't be there for them whether you're in rehab or if you're sitting here shaking in a corner. They shouldn't have to see you like this, they definitely shouldn't have to watch helplessly. That's what's hurting her, watching you in so much pain. She's scared, Charlie."

Charlie looked down in shame. He was just trying to be there for her, to stay strong for her. Was he really hurting her despite his good intentions?

"Did she tell you that? That I was scaring her?"

"It's not you that's scaring her, it's the addiction. It's what could happen to you."

"I want to talk to her."

"I think she's outside, I can go get her if you want but haven't you already talked about this?"

"Well, yes. But she failed to mention the part about being all petrified and disturbed."

Jack shook his head and headed towards the door to retrieve Claire. Nothing he could say would change Charlie's mind. Besides, maybe he and Claire could convince him together.

Claire stood up on her tippy toes and handed Aaron over to Jack before walking over to Charlie and sitting cross legged in front of him, her eyes were wide as if anticipating something. "What's going on, Charlie? Please be serious."

"I didn't mean to hurt you Claire, I didn't realize how hard it is for you to see me like this. You could have told me y'know."

"I know, I just didn't need you any angrier at yourself."

"Please be honest, Claire."

"It's just really hard to just watch you in pain, I feel so helpless, like there's nothing I can do." Charlie noted the emotion in her voice, she was trying so hard to be strong for him just like he was for her.

"I'll go."

"What?"

"I'll go to rehab, I'll get help."

Claire let out a sigh and began to laugh in pure relief. She leaned over and hugged him tight. "Thank God."

After getting discharged, social services provided a car seat for Aaron. Jack put it together with surprising ease into his international scout and then situated Aaron in it after Charlie and Claire pulled and tugged on the pieces for about ten minutes, completely clueless. Jack jumped into the drivers seat and despite Charlie's current state, he helped lift Claire up into the large vehicle. Charlie held Claire's hand tightly in his own, trying hard to keep from shaking. Suddenly a thought entered his mind and he abruptly tuned toward her. "Claire, where are you going to stay while I'm gone? We didn't even talk about this."

"Um, well, I guess I just assumed I'd keep living at Jack's place. But now that Kate's there, I feel bad intruding." "Claire, it's not considered intruding when your family. Besides, it's really not a problem," Jack cut in from the drivers seat. "Thank you Jack." Claire smiled sincerely. "No, I know. I just thought that it might get crowded with Aaron and all. And I remembered a promise I made back in the good ole' days back on the island. I was thinking that maybe, I don't know … only if you wanted to of course..."

"Charlie."

"Yes?"

"Breath."

"Right, sorry." Charlie took a deep breath and nervously carried on.

"I don't know if you remembered this or not, it was back on the island, right after turnip was born. You were cutting my hair and I asked you if you wanted to stay with me in LA if we ever got rescued, you never really answered completely but it sorta seemed like a yes." Claire giggled at his childlike ramble,

"Charlie, we would love to stay with you. At least until we figure everything out and all."

"Really? I mean, that's great! I've got the keys in my pocket, you can take them if you want. Y'know, so that you can go ahead and babyproof it or whatever. You can stay there too, whatever you think is best."

"That's perfect, I'll just move my stuff in and get settled then."

"Terrific! But Claire, I need you to remember that the old Charlie lived in that flat. Not me. Just promise me that you won't look at me any different after seeing all of it?"

"Promise."

The rehabilitation center was located far outside of the city, it was a large, Spanish style building that looked something like a very large house. As they approached the building, Charlie looked out of the window with a sigh, preparing himself for the journey before him. Claire squeezed Charlie's hand in encouragement and they walked inside.

The next hour was somewhat uneventful, consisting mostly of talking to doctors, taking blood tests, and signing papers.

Charlie walked out into the waiting room and saw Claire sitting in one of the chairs holding Aaron in her arms. They were serenely beautiful even in a place as cold and impersonal as this. They deserved to go home to a sturdy, brick house with a big yard and a white picket fence. Not some shitty apartment where a druggie would wake up at 3pm, get high, blast music, throw wild parties and play the night away on his bass until picking up some random groupie with hollow eyes and empty laughter.

Aaron would have no nursery, not a toy to play with or a crib to sleep in. No, they would both sleep on a bed that had baggies of heroin hiding underneath. And that's what made him sick.

But somehow, for some reason that he would never be able to comprehend, they waltz right into his hopelessly dark, disturbing life, agreeing to face all the uncertainty that came with it. They would brave it all for him. For the duggie dropout in torn jeans, a ratty t-shirt, and an unmistakable cheeky smile.

He could have watched his little family forever but the doctor behind him gave a little nod indicating that it was time. This was it. It was time for another goodbye.

He walked slowly over to Claire who smiled as she handed Aaron over to him. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss atop the infant's bald, turnip-shaped head. "Hey Aaron, I have to go away for a little while, alright? But I'll be back, I'll be all better and then we can be a family again, you, me, and your mum. We can eat peanut butter strait out of the jar and I can sing you to sleep every night, doesn't that sound lovely? I think it does. But for now you get to be the man of the house. You'll take care of your mother for me, right? Yeah, I know you will.

I love you turnip head."

Charlie turned towards jack and handed Aaron over to him. Jack smiled at him with pride, "Your doing the right thing, Charlie."

"You will take care of them for me, yeah?"

"I promise, they're in good hands."

"Thank you Jack, for everything."

Jack motioned over to Claire who was standing behind, watching them lovingly. Charlie walked to her, taking her hands in his. She looked down at her shoes avoiding eye contact, he moved her chin up so that she was looking up at him, he noticed that her eyes were glazed in tears. Without a word he pulled her into an embrace, holding her tight and allowing her to cry. Although, they needed each other now more than ever, separation was inevitable. In order to be together they had to part ways. Claire's breath was short and shaky as she whispered, "get better, kay?"

"I will get better, Claire, promise," he answered with so much confidence that he almost believed it himself. Claire nodded as if convincing herself he was right, her eyes shut, tears forming underneath her lashes and falling down her damp cheeks. Charlie hated that she would waste precious tears on him, his own falling despite himself.

He leaned forward in desperation, kissing her softly. It was lingering and held a guilt ridden and bittersweet air about it, yet it was meaningful like their other kisses. As they pulled apart, Jack noted that this was the first time he had seen them show any real form of affection in public. He thought it must have been sort of sacred for both of them, they were very careful not to disrupt their fragile relationship. Jack watched as Charlie took a deep breath and moved from Claire as if his very soul was shattering, he walked away without looking back. He guessed that Charlie must have been afraid that if he looked back he wouldn't be capable of moving forward. Claire watched expressionless as he walked through the door. Jack came from behind handing Aaron in to her arms and then wrapping his own around her in comfort. She looked up at her brother and gave him a week smile as they exited out of the rehabilitation center without a word.

…

a/n: I know that was pretty rushed but I didn't think you would want to read pages about the process of being discharged from a hospital followed by the process of being put in a rehabilitation center. By the way, do you hate me for sending our beloved Charlie to rehab and thus separating the adorable couple right after they literally just found each other? I know I'm really terrible but I had to do it. They just had to take a couple steps back before moving forward. Do you agree? Or do you think I'm just trying to be mean?

The next chapter will include some other couples and mentions of pairings. We also get to see Claire's reaction to Charlie's flat, so that should be interesting.

Please keep on giving me your thoughts, opinions, and/or ideas. You really don't know how happy it makes me. And being happy is a good thing especially when your constantly studying for about twenty tests all at once. Okay, so maybe not twenty but it comes pretty darn close.

Lotsoflove.


	7. Chapter 7

No Such Thing as Time.

Chapter seven.

a/n: Hello lovely readers, hope ya'll are having an amazing week!

I don't have a lot to say about this one except that I just got so busy and I wasn't able to do nearly as much as I would have liked. It's not really the greatest but It'll have to do for now. I also wanted to remind everyone that in the alternate universe driveshaft is actually pretty big and famous, so that will impact the story in the future.

StrawberryxSunlight- I know Right! I defiantly had a mini freak out, I'm just good at disguising it. haha I have another friend who lives in LA and met him in an ice cream shop. I mean seriously, an ice cream shop? So freaking cute. And I'm glad you don't hat me for sending him to rehab, it will result in a happy ending, I promise.

Itsall4love-Thanks hun, I'm so glad that you agree! I think that their relationship will only grow stronger through it.

Ada23Mon- yayy! You agree too :) Hopefully this will give you a bit more insight into Claire's conflicting emotions, next chapter should be longer though.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Kate Austin sat comfortably in a black leather coach in Jack's apartment. She had to admit that there was something pretty ironic about how her freedom now depended on a situation that so closely mirrored house arrest. In any other house this would have been absolute torture to her, but this wasn't just any other house - this was Jack's home. Something about that comforted and calmed her. She had spent the entire morning alone, deep in her thoughts. But no matter how hard she tried to make sense of her newly found memories, she couldn't; they were so vivid yet they didn't follow any pattern of time, they were without any order whatsoever.

After a few hours of soul and subconscious searching, Kate had enough. It was all too much, she finally gave up and plopped rather ungracefully on to the fluffy coach, sighing loudly, grabbing the remote, and flipping on the flat screen tv. She thought that maybe if she focused on other people's problems for long enough, she might just get her mind off of her own.

As the television turned on to the news Kate saw a familiar image plastered across the screen – an overview video of the concert. She watched in pure shock as Claire waddled backstage at the bottom of the screen followed by a dumbstruck Charlie in the focus of the video abandoning his bass and microphone as he ran behind her. "Charlie Pace, member of the rock band driveshaft caught running off stage in LA Saturday. The benefit concert was hosted by the highly esteemed Widmore Corporation, which was raising money for charity. Pace allegedly struggles with a serious drug addiction, causing fans to fear the worst. No word yet on his motives for leaving or his current whereabouts." The newscaster spoke in a flighty tone, full of scandal. The media always had a way with making seemingly small events turn in to dramatic soap operas but this was different, they thought that they were amplifying the story but in reality they weren't even scratching the surface. 'If only they knew,' she thought with amusement.

She saw herself in the bottom corner of the screen and couldn't help but laugh, in a few moments her life would be turned completely upside down. As she watched the scene replay in a surreal trance she heard the sound of a key unlocking and the door opening. She sat up quickly, startled by the sudden noise interrupting her thoughts.

Jack walked in with a smile closely followed by Claire with Aaron in her arms. She still wore the little floral dress but her hair was propped atop her head in a messy bun and her eyes looked extremely tired beneath the magnetic smile she maintained. At the sight, Kate quickly bolted over to Claire and wrapped her arms around her carefully, not wanting to hurt the baby. But she didn't need to ask questions. Kate saw the red lined, hazy eyes that she was desperately trying to hide and the absence of one particular Englishman, she looked at her quizzically in concern. "We dropped him off at rehab," Claire muttered under her breath, untrusting of her own voice. Kate needed no further explanation, "Oh sweetie, It's gonna be okay!"

"I know that, I really am proud of him. I'm just so mad at myself for being so upset, it's stupid, I should be happy for him. I am happy for him, I think. I just don't know how to feel anymore."

"Claire, your allowed to be sad. I mean, you just found each other and now your separated again. It's perfectly normal to be confused, we all are. I'm sure he is too. "

Claire nodded appreciatively, "I'm just glad that I have you and Jack to keep me sane."

"Yes you do."

Jack walked from the kitchen into the living room casually tossing an apple in the air and catching it with ease. "I really hate to interrupt, but you should probably start packing. I've gotta get back to work in a few."

"That's okay, I'll get started."

"Wait … Pack?"

"Um yeah, Charlie gave me the key to his flat, I know it's sort of sudden but I thought I could clean it up for him. I don't want him to have to go back to all his old stuff."

Kate gave a faint smile before Claire quickly added, "but I'll still be here all the time, so don't worry too much."

"That's really brave of you, Claire. I'm so happy for you both!"

"Brave or stupid?"

"Definitely brave," Kate answered truthfully with a teasing tone joining Claire in happy laughter.

Kate sat on the guest room bed staring down at Aaron lovingly in her arms as Claire proceeded to run around the room, throwing articles of maternity clothing and baby necessities into her big, blue duffle bag. "I don't know if this is something you need to do by yourself, and if you do that's fine, but if you want help, I'd love to come get you settled."

"sure, yeah, that'd be great," Claire replied breathlessly, squishing everything down to fit in the bag before forcefully zipping it closed. She grabbed the bag, threw it across her back, and waddled over to the door, Kate followed behind with Aaron.

"Jack we're ready!"

"Okay, coming, I've just need to grab my keys."

"Oh and Jack, bring the garbage bags."

…..

Claire gently lifted Aaron out of the car before letting Jack fiddle with the car seat, pulling it out and placing Aaron back inside of it. She blocked the sun out of her eyes with her hand to see her new home. It looked like any other Las Angeles apartment, which was odd considering the wealth that Charlie must have acquired through all of his fame. She awoke from her daze as Jack gave her an encouraging hug goodbye, "good luck," he whispered. He walked over to Kate giving her a quick kiss before jumping back into the car leaving the three alone in the parking lot. Kate nodded in the direction of the doorway, giving Claire the support she needed as she walked bravely towards her future.

Claire stood staring at the door in front of her. She shook nervously in fear of what she might find inside, but mostly afraid of herself. What if this changed the way she had always looked at Charlie? It's one thing to know of someone's past, it's another to actually see it with your own eyes, not to mention live in it. The home is where a person feels the most comfortable and the most like themselves. It's where they keep their secrets and store their memories, there's just something very personal about it. Maybe too personal.

But Claire couldn't let this taint her view of Charlie, she wouldn't let it. Whatever it was that he didn't want her to see didn't define him as a person.

She took a deep breath and turned the knob, slowly opening the door.

A British flag was painted on the inside of the door and spread across the wall fading into textured black paint, which covered the rest of the room giving it the resemblance of a cave. Claire supposed it was something like a cave to him, the place where he could blast his music, close the curtains, and pretend like the dark, scary world didn't exist right outside. Posters of musical greats cluttered the dark walls along with several out of place driveshaft posters filled with memories and meaning. The living room was a complete mess, clothes were scattered all over, along with empty beer bottles, dishes, and cups. There were stacks of journals piled up on top of a little coffee table and papers balled up all around. The coach was old leather, duct tape piecing together broken seems. Claire walked in slowly without a word, picking up a picture frame off the table. It was of Liam and Charlie both very young and happy somewhere in Manchester, they looked so free, without a care in the world. She smiled at the picture placing it down gently as if it were of great worth, then she walked over to the little built in kitchen. It had a mini fridge containing nothing but microwavable meals, leftovers, soda, and more alcohol. She laughed realizing that she was in great need of a grocery run and walked back out to the living room. The entire apartment seemed to revolve around the brilliant, black piano in the center. It looked old, as if it had been played a million times and was cluttered with papers of musical notes and lyrics.

There was something very bittersweet about being in Charlie's home. There wasn't one picture of the two of them together, not a love note held up by a cheep magnet on the fridge, not one bit of evidence of the love they shared. Nothing but bits and pieces of scattered memories from deep somewhere in the subconscious_. "Spectacular consciousness altering love," _As Charlie would say.

….

"It's so … Charlie." Kate noted out load as she sat Aaron in his car seat down on the ground and grabbing the trash bags out of her bag.

"I know." Claire laughed, staring up at one of the driveshaft posters hanging on the wall.

"I guess we should get started then."

After about an hour of throwing things away and doing general cleaning, Claire came across the bedroom door, fear filling the pit of her stomach. This was where he kept his stash. She opened the door and saw more of the same. There was a big bed in the middle of the room next to a nightstand with thick sharpies, notebooks, a bottle of black nail polish, and a roll of bandage tape on top. The closet was a mess, filled with all back show clothes and casual t-shirts. She walked over to a dresser in the corner of the room and did the unthinkable - opened the drawer. Her heart dropped, there they were right in front of her eyes, little baggies of a brown substance, film containers, and tin foil. She found more under the bed and deep in the closet. The feeling that washed over her is hard to explain, it's more complicated then most people could understand. It's definitely not anger nor fear, it's so much more than that. To know that the person you love is intentionally hurting themselves is absolutely devastating. To see the cause of the pain right in front of your eyes is torture. Claire took a deep breath and pulled out a trash bag. This was over, they couldn't hurt him anymore.

….

Kate sat on the newly clean living room floor rocking a crying Aaron back and forth in her arms. Once he fell asleep again she placed him back in the car seat and stood up looking around for Claire. She saw the bedroom door open and walked into the doorway quietly not to wake Aaron.

But what she found inside, she was not expecting.

Claire was on her knees clutching a trash bag in a death grip, throwing the drugs in it with ardent fury. It was as if a bit of her deep buried savage nature had surfaced, the wild look in her eyes fixed on what she was doing. Kate leaned her back against the doorway, not wanting to interrupt. Once Claire had finally finished, she tied the strings on the bag in a knot and threw in across the room, her face falling in to her hands as she began to sob. It may not have been her own burden but she still felt an enormous wait lift off of her shoulders.

She was free.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

a/n: so there ya go. The drugs are no longer existent, yayy! Oh, and Charlie's all over the news, that could possibly impact the story (hint hint)

I've been thinking about making this story more of an epilogue with storyline and then doing a sequel with a more direct plot. Of course this would be in a long time but still, I'm just brainstorming here. What do you think?

Remember, don't do drugs. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

No Such Thing as Time.

Chapter 8.

A/N: hi m'dears, so today I am sick. Very sad. But on the other hand, I had time to write this and I also sorta figured out what I want to do in the coming chapters. So that's a plus.

Ada23Mon – I agree! (Which is kinda obvious considering I wrote it haha) The drugs really affected Claire too, so I thought she needed a proper release of her own. Glad you like the sequel idea. I just figured I have so much I still just need to explain (because the finale left so much open) that I really couldn't wrap this story up in a pretty little bow. So, I figured a sequel could do the job.

StrawberryxSunlight – Thank you! He definitely would have stopped her from going into the bedroom, he's so odd about keeping his past separate from their relationship. (for good reason.) That's why I think it's interesting to see their past became such a major part of their future like this. I'm so happy you liked the jate part, there's more to come ;) By "AU" I meant alternate universe because it doesn't completely follow the plot of the show. And if you wrote a fanfic would I read and review?

Hell yes! I haven't actually reviewed anything yet, but you've just been so loyal. It's only right. I really hope you write, it's fun!

…..

"Hello my name is Charlie Pace and I'm a heroin addict. "

"Hello Charlie." "Hey." "Hi."

A jumble of awkward, forced responses came from an odd group of men and women sitting in a circle of plastic chairs. Each person had gone around hesitantly telling their name and brief drug or alcohol history, some talked with a hint of resistance, most with a great deal of shame, and a select few with a glimmer of hope. Apparently, admitting your problem is the first and most important step towards recovery, giving a confident edge to an other wise insecure, helpless situation. He scanned the room and committed each face to memory. To any other passerby they might all look the same - tired, sad eyes, full of despair. They looked afraid, desperate, and hopeless. They were rugged wash ups, tossed around by life and had finally hit rock bottom.

But to Charlie, they were beautiful.

They knew defeat. They knew struggle, they'd seen more death and lost more friends then a human being should have to. But here they were finding their way out of the depths, taking their first steps again, relearning how to live. Despite all of the horrors they had witnessed, there was something very refreshing about that.

But as they bore their souls, releasing themselves from the bondage of pent up emotions and buried secrets, Charlie couldn't.

Charlie couldn't tell them that he was in some kind of alternate universe, that he was a victim of a plane crash, that he found redemption on a desert island. He couldn't tell them about the psychopaths, the kidnapping, the monster made of swirling black smoke, the button that saved the world, his multiple foreseen deaths, or those bloody polar bears. No, they would call him a crazy, delusional junkie. Hell, he really sounded like a crazy, delusional junkie. If he didn't know better he would have thought that he was insane too.

He needed someone who understood, someone to talk to.

….

"Are you sure your gonna be okay?"

"Completely, I am Aarons mother after all, I think I can make due. Besides I don't need to keep all of you awake all night."

"You know we wouldn't mind. Really though, if you need help or anything, I honestly don't care if it's four in the morning, just call."

"Okay, I promise. If I need help, I'll call."

"Are you sure?"

"Kate! Yes, I'm sure. I just need some time alone to work everything out, think things through, y'know."

"Yeah, I understand. Just making sure."

"I'll be over tomorrow anyways, I have to bring some of Charlie's clothes over so that Jack can drop them off for him."

"Okay, good. I'll see you tomorrow then." Kate smiled and disappeared through the door, closing it soundlessly behind her. Claire was left alone in Charlie's apartment with a crying infant, absolutely exhausted.

She heard the ding of the dryer and sat Aaron down in his car seat. She put the freshly cleaned sheets and blankets on the bed and lay her baby down on it. After placing big, fluffy pillows around Aaron so that he couldn't fall and wrapping him in cozy blankets, she threw on some of her pajama pants, one of Charlie's t-shirts and lay beside her baby. When he started shrieking again, she picked him up and rocked him back and forth in her arms. After listening to his cries for quite some time, frustration was setting in. All she wanted was quiet, a little time to sort out all of her thoughts. But Aaron had other plans.

"Sweetheart, please, please stop. Please stop for your mum. It's okay, sweetie, please." The inconsistent outbursts went on for hours upon hours, making Claire's heart break with each unearthly shriek. Once he had finally fallen asleep, Claire lay him beside her gently. You might think that she would have fallen asleep instantly from extreme exhaustion, but she just couldn't. What if Aaron accidentally turned himself on to his stomach and couldn't roll back around? What if he suffocated in the blankets? What if he fell off the bed?

What if, what if, what if.

The fact that she was in Charlie's house, in his bed no less, wasn't exactly keeping her mind off of him either. She tossed and turned for a while desperately trying to get everything out of her head, she wanted to stop feeling all together, to be numb, to sleep.

She eventually decided sleep just wasn't going to come, so she pulled her little, blue diary out of the front pocket of her bag along with a pen. She bit the top of the pen thoughtfully before taking a deep breath and writing ferociously, rarely stopping in a fit of inspiration. She wrote down every thought, every memory that she could find in the depths of her mind, hoping to find some kind of reason beneath the hazy recollections. The words didn't flow or make any real sense. To any outsider it may have looked as if she had abandoned documenting her daily life and begun some kind of insane science fiction novel instead.

But this wasn't a science fiction novel, this was her life. And now after seeing her thoughts on paper, she was even more confused than before.

As morning rolled in, Claire was getting restless. She decided to go to the kitchen and see if she could find some tea. After some searching, she found a cupboard filled with all kinds of tea and teacups. She hummed happily as she pulled out a teacup and heated up some water to pour inside of it. Sunlight was now pouring in through the window she had opened, light cascading over the countertop. She bobbed the tea bag up and down in the cup as she watched Aaron sleep peacefully through the open door. She took a deep breath and sighed, this was the first day of the rest of her life. Everything was so… new. She was a new and so was Charlie.

And Aaron was a perfect symbol of that- a fresh, innocent life.

Suddenly, the ring of a phone interrupted her musings. It was Charlie's phone so she decided it would be best to let it go to voicemail. She heard his voicemail on speakerphone, "hi ya, it's Charlie. Leave me a message," followed by a beep. She listened curiously as the message began.

"Where the hell are you Charles? Huh? We finally get a gig in the sodding free world and you go tromping off stage without a bleeding thought of your good ole' brother. What about me? What about the band, eh, Charlie boy? I thought you'd come back for your scag but you haven't. And now I'm worried ill about ya, baby brother, I can't take it. Please, at least call next time you just decide to run of… " There was a loud sigh and a harsh hang up before returning to dial tone. Claire stood stunned,

'So that was Liam.'

She wondered if she should call him back. After all, Liam may be a lot of things but he was still Charlie's brother, he deserved to at least know where he was, right? He sounded so worried and she couldn't help but imagine herself in his shoes, she would be frantic too. Her humanity and compassion just had to get in the way of her fears. She had to call back.

She listened to the familiar ring as she held the phone shakily to her ear.

"Baby brother?" Liam's voice was much softer than before, it sounded as if he had been crying and was now holding in short, shaky breaths. Sympathy filled Claire's heart for the wild rock star.

"Um no, I'm sorry. I was just calling for him. See, he's not here right now but he's okay, I just thought I should let you know."

"Who is this?"

"I'm Claire. I know your brother from a long time ago, I sorta found him again."

"…And now you have his phone? Look, miss, I don't wanna talk to some groupie, I _need_ to talk to Charlie, alright? So if you could just hand him the phone…"

"I am _not_ just some groupie, thank you very much. My name is Claire Littleton. And as much as I wish that I could just hand him the phone, I can't. He's at rehab."

"What?"

"Rehab. He's getting clean, thinking about his future."

"So he just ditched our big chance so that he could go talk to some therapist?"

"Well, it's actually a bit more complicated then that."

"The pansy! I can't believe he would do this to me after all we've been through. How the hell do you so much about this anyways?"

"I really can't explain right now. Just let him be, okay? He needs your support right now. He looks up to you, Liam. He loves you."

"I don't know what he's told you, but he doesn't _love_ me, alright? We don't exactly get along, it's complicated. If he loved me he wouldn't just abandon the gig like that."

"In case you've forgotten, you were the reason he started the band, he started the drugs after a fight with you, because he looks up to you. He thought he had failed you. His life falling apart? That was you. Sure it was his decision, but you need to man up and take some responsibility. I think you owe him the chance to fix what you've broken." Claire's voice was becoming a bit louder as anger was setting in. There was a long pause on the other end but Claire could hear him breathing, thinking of how to respond.

"… Where is he exactly?"

…

Charlie closed the curtains in his little room. It was impersonal, cold, and unnaturally clean for his taste. But at least he was alone, finally. He couldn't bear hearing one more sob story about someone's life wasted on partying or some other pointless reason. His head was spinning so quickly with different theories and memories, confusion and absolute awe. He sat against the bland, beige wall and began to play his guitar. But much to his disappointment, his hands still shook too much for any kind of real music to be played. He sighed and banged his head against the wall, trying to think up a way to keep himself calm. An idea came to him and he jumped up, walking out of the room with his guitar still slung on his back.

Once he reached the kitchen he noticed the doctor inside taking a bite out of an apple. "Hey doc."

"Hello Charlie, haven't seen you out of your room since morning counseling, what's up?"

"Oh, um, I was just about to see if I could find myself some tea."

"Sure, we've got some in the cabinet up there. Are you sure you don't want anything else? I've got some more painkillers if you want them."

"Nah, I already had some. You might not understand as a Yank and all. It's like they say- sex, drugs, and rock n' roll are all very well, but nothing beats a cup of tea when your feeling down." He gave a sarcastic smirk and shrugged.

"Are you sure your alright? You haven't been participating much."

"No, no. I'm fine, really. I'm just trying to figure some things out."

"Everyone is. That's why you're here, if you need to sort things out you can talk to us. It's what we're here for."

"Yeah, I know that. And I really wish I could, it's complicated. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I've heard a lot of things, Charlie."

"I promise, you haven't heard this."

"I'm worried about you, I wish you'd open up a little. But since you can't seem to do that, I thought I'd try something different." He pulled out his phone from his pants pocket and put it to his ear. "Yeah, it's alright. Let him in."

Charlie stood awkwardly, much too curious to walk away. The doctor put his phone back in his pocket,

"You have a visitor, Charlie."

…..

A/N: dun dun dun. Who do you think this mysterious visitor is?

I'm not telling. But I can tell you that the next chapter is gonna be a bit different, I'm kinda excited about it actually. It's going to be from a point of view that I haven't done yet. I'm also gonna have some Shayid and Jun in either the next chapter or the one after that. So that's cool.


	9. Chapter 9

No Such Thing As Time.

Chapter Nine.

Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'

a/n: my computer crashed. Can you believe this? Inconceivable, right? So if you were wondering what took me so long, that would be your answer. I've been using a friend's laptop recently, so that's how this managed to get written. Basically, it might take longer to update because of this. Bu have no fear, I'll still update.

First things first ...

Nations nobodies and tiswillard– thank ya for favoriting. That was very kind of you.

Yankeehater- thank you, I'm glad you love it! It is sad though. (Drama, drama, drama.) This chapter is pretty depressing too, though the next I am going to try my hardest to make happy. Might be challenging for me, but I'm going to try.

Dharmaqueen2342- I'm so very glad that you're loving it! I really am. It's definitely encouraging to hear from you

Ada23Mon. - I know the visitor thing was really obvious, but I just like to end on cliffhangers anyways. It just gives it that lost-esque feel, ya know? And I am getting them back together in the next chapter. I haven't thought about it much though. Any ideas?

StrawberryxSunlight - Loving the long response and your questions. I like questions. I know what it's like to be busy, my life is absolute chaos too. So no worries there. And

About your question, Lost didn't exactly tell us this. But the alternate universe isn't completely the same. I checked before writing it and Liam looks pretty rough during the show. He's all rock star-ish and high. Not to mention that he's in LA without his family. We do know that driveshaft is a lot more famous in the alternate universe and that they never broke up. So if they never broke up, Liam probably never moved to Sydney and got clean. And thus, no sweater vest, glasses, or sandboxes for him. Very sad. But other than that, I kinda just took creative control. (I know, scandalous ... am I right?)

I miss them too. They'll always be my favorites for some odd reason.

Wow, Deep breath. Here we go ...

...

The alarm from his phone rang abruptly, interrupting him from the sweet few hours of sleep he could get. It sang to the tune of an all too familiar rock song, one that stung his heart in a faraway, tragic sort of way. He slowly lifted himself up, turning slightly to see a beautiful woman sleeping peacefully beside him; blonde, wavy hair swung across the pillow. He smiled softly at the sight of her and kissed her cheek before getting out of bed. He got dressed and quickly brushed his hand through his hair while staring at his appearance in the mirror. It never ceased to amaze him, he still envisioned himself as a young rebel, clueless and reckless. Now he saw hints of age on his face, new responsibility and deep love in his wild eyes. He heard the sound of a sweet, Aussie accent whisper a faint goodbye before walking quietly out of the door. He flipped the light on in a little bedroom where his child slept, blissfully unaware of the pain that the world would eventually throw, the kind that time never heals. He poured coffee grounds into the espresso maker, the fizzing, crackling sound and the comforting scent filling the air. He pored a cup, checked the time, grabbed a pile of papers, and walked towards the door.

A faint, polite knock came from behind the door.

In surprise, he opened the door. A little blond girl in skinny jeans, high top chucks, and a blond curly ponytail stood holding the hand of a little boy with bright blue eyes smiling beside her. She looked nervous, attempting to smile despite the obvious fear in her eyes.

"Liam?"

"Um… hello? Do I know you?"

"Oh, no. I doubt that. But I knew your brother."

Well, so much for work.

"Come in!" he almost yelled, motioning his hand towards the doorway.

She walked inside the cute, yellow, Sydney home hesitantly. The experience was surreal, like a vision of what could have been. Liam was almost like an image of what Charlie could have become.

"So, miss…?"

"Littleton. Claire Littleton. You can call me Claire, of course."

"And who is this little man?" He leaned down to smile brightly at the boy hiding behind his mother.

"Tell him your name," Claire whispered in his ear. He just laughed nervously and hid his face again.

"His name's Aaron. He's a little shy."

"Well, hello there Aaron. I'm Liam, it's very nice to meet you. I have a little girl a bit older than you, I think she's still sleeping though."

Claire smiled faintly, "Meagan, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Charlie told me once."

"So, how exactly did you know him?"

"Well, that's kind of why I'm here, actually. If now's not a good time, I can come back -"

"- No, no. That's alright. I go to work on Saturdays sometimes, but I can just call in sick. I'd much rather hear whatever you have to say about my brother." He led her to the living room and sat down.

"It's sort of a long story. I know you won't believe me, you'll probably think I'm crazy. I would too if I hadn't experienced it myself. So feel free to kick me out once I'm done, but just hear me out first. I think he would've wanted you to hear this."

Liam was getting slightly nervous at this point. He knew Charlie had a lot of problems, but he really didn't like to be reminded of his downward spiral and the pain that he had inflicted upon him. He sighed deeply, a sad, regretful, and worried air about it.

"Go ahead."

"Alright, so you know about the plane crash, right?"

"Of course."

"Yes, well, he didn't drown when it crashed. They lied."

Liam sat shocked, was this just some kind of conspiracy theory, or was this true?

She started with the crash, how she met him, his jungle ventures, his brave withdrawal, imaginary peanut butter, his kidnapping and hanging, murder, his almost-relapse, his church, his heroic acts in the hatch, his many near death experiences, and finally, his real death. She told him about his sacrifice and his bravery. About the deep love he had for Aaron and the wonderful man he had become. She explained the entire situation and the reason behind the lie. At this point Liam was frantic, tears dripping down his face.

"I always knew he had a good heart, he was always a great man. Better than I could ever be." He looked into Claire's eyes and held her hands in his. "Thank you," he whispered with deep, strong vigor. "You couldn't imagine how much this means to me."

"I just wanted you to get closure. He loved you, Liam. He never stopped loving you."

He nodded, trying hard to convince himself.

"Closure does help, I'll never get over it though."

"You don't ever get over it. The gap never closes. No one else can ever replace him. No one will ever fill the hole he left. And now all I can think about are the times when I didn't love him enough, I did love him …I do love him. And he never got to hear that, he never knew." She looked down, closing her eyes as she blocked bitter tears.

"He knows. Wherever he is, he knows."

Right then and there something wonderful happened. A bond was created trough mutual grief, pain, and love.

Karen and Claire would grow close, like sisters in some strange, emotional way. Aaron and Meagan would be playmates and siblings. They could all live together in Sydney along with Kate. They would have Christmas and birthdays together, they would remember the past and celebrate the future, making memories along the way.

We could be a family.

Liam would teach Aaron how to play piano, guitar, and bass. He would show him the joy of writing, art, and creativity. He would encourage his imagination, teach him to hope, to dream as vast and madly as Charlie did. He would let him be wild and free, show him how to love without fear. He would grow up loving a man he never knew, one who loved him enough to die. The one who loved without second thought,

the one who loved too much.

...

His phone gave a loud buzz, abruptly waking him from his drunken sleep. The digital clock flashed bright, green numbers, intensifying the constant beat of sheer pain burning a hole in his head. The night before consisted of vague, fuzzy memories. He couldn't separate his dreams from his reality. His existence was slowly becoming more of a surreal half conscience state with every hit.

He curved the thin, frumpy pillow around his head to block out noise, the dingy, off – white sheets were no match for the morning cold. Light poured in the little motel room through the lines of cheep, Venetian blinds. Shadows were cast upon outdated wood paneling, forcing Liam to lie awake. He checked his phone for any new messages; the empty inbox was a subtle reminder of his failed relationships and broken heart. He rubbed his eyes and slowing waddled over to the bathroom sink.

He squinted into the grungy mirror, drawing a thick, black line of eyeliner on to his lid. He smudged it under his eyes, hiding the obvious signs of exhaustion. His transparent, blue eyes were a stark contrast to the ebony texture surrounding them. Faded and weathered with pain, hinting at the state of his tainted soul, they couldn't even focus on the mirror for more then a few seconds. They held a distant, faraway look, he wondered if there was still any hint of gleam beneath the exhaustion and addiction. He thought it must have faded away slowly along with his deteriorated mind. His hair was tossled and spiked in a wild mess, wide side burns emphasized his square jaw line. He quickly threw on some jeans and a black, muscle shirt from the night before, a silver chain still hung loosely around his neck. He grabbed his phone and checked the time before taking a couple film containers from the desk drawer and stuffing them deep in to his pants pocket. He ran out of the motel and called a cab.

He arrived at the recovery center with a strange pang of guilt burning in his hardened heart. As he walked through the cold, empty hallways, the nerves began to stir. He always sort of figured he's end up here, just not to see his beloved, baby brother. A stern looking doctor led him in. He stopped abruptly at a door and knocked quietly. Another doctor opened the door carefully, revealing his little brother. They both stood there, neither wanting to begin a conversation.

"I'll leave you boys to talk. I'll be right outside if you need me." The doctors walked outside. "Please be nice," one added before shutting the door behind them.

"You look better. Not good, but better," Liam commented with a faint smile.

"Well, you look terrible." An uncomfortable silence passed between them for a few moments before Liam broke it,

"Why'd you leave, baby brother?"

"Just couldn't handle it any more. Things got crazy, I needed help."

"Let me get this strait – you just ran off the middle of our get to get some sodding therapist?"

"Yeah, Liam, I did. I was messed up. The drugs destroyed us, they destroyed the music."

"Don't be wise, Charlie. This was it, this was supposed to make us big here. And you just blow it off and make me look like a bleeding fool up there. Our plans went all to pot thanks to you. And all for what? A therapy session?

"... You did this to me!"

What was so eerily familiar about those enraged words?

Why did they hurt him so much?

A pang of deep, heavy emotion burned in his heart, unnatural, thick rage engulfing him. In a fit of pure animalistic emotion, Liam swung his fist towards his brother, knocking him to the ground. Images began flashing in his brain, his head spinning in utter confusion with a few sparks of relieving realization. One of the doctors came rushing in grabbing Liam and pulling him back. Charlie weakly stood up, confused and hurt by Liam's outburst. He punched him back with as much force as his week body could muster. At the sudden blow, Liam's flashes became more intense, more real. The doctor held him and called for help as he doubled over in pain but mostly in shock. It was like nausea but ten times worse – crippling and severe. He fell to the floor as emotion overwhelmed him.

"Baby brother? I'm sorry … I'm so sorry." He began to cry. Charlie just stood looking down at him, completely baffled. He stood back up and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Your alive. Thank God, your alive..."

"You remembered," Charlie whispered, absolutely shocked at the realization.

"How did this happen?"

"I don't know, none of us know."

"It doesn't even matter, I'm just glad your back."

They stood there for a few moments in silence leaving the doctor completely stunned.

"I'm sorry I punched you, I don't know what came over me. You were right, I did this to you. You were just trying to get better for your family."

"... How did you know about that?"

"After you died, Claire visited me in Sydney. Her, Kate, and Aaron moved near us, we stayed close after that. I guess we could relate. I felt like I owed it to you to teach Aaron about you."

"Thank you, " Charlie replied sincerely as he moved out of Liam's firm embrace.

"Karen kicked me out, y'know. She said I was dangerous, she doesn't trust me out here. She told me not to come back."

"I'll talk to her li, I'm almost out of here, you need help now. Get yourself cleaned up for them. We'll fix this. We'll clean it up, alright?"

"Yah, okay. Just like old times, eh? Always getting me out of trouble."

"Yes, and you always getting me into it."

"That's fair, I guess."

The doctor stepped back in to the conversation, "Would you like to get signed up, Mr. Pace?"

"Yeah, that'd be good." He turned back towards Charlie, "I'll see ya around baby brother."

"I'll fix this, I'll make it better. Promise."

...

a/n: I sincerely promise to have a large amount of Charlie and Claire togetherness in the next chapter. I am also gong to try hard and make it happier and such. I'm gonna have some other couples in it too. I have a plan. Well, at least for the next chapter. If you have any ideas or suggestions, let me know. I'm always open to ideas and feedback.

You people rock.


	10. Chapter 10

No Such Thing as Time.

Chapter ten. (Ten? Yeah baby!)

Disclaimer: tis not my idea, I fail at life apparently.

a/n: So my computer survived it's repair operation! I happen to be freakishly happy about not being forced into using friend's laptops for serious essays and this too, of course! Sorry it took so long again, things are crazy. I imagine my fellow rock gods can relate?

StrawberryxSunlight – you sure do rock! Haha I'm glad it makes sense now, it's hard to tell if it story works or not when you've got it all figured out in your head. I agree, I've always had a soft spot for Liam despite all his crap. There just has to be a good part in there somewhere. Plus, I'm all for emotional healing stuff. I've provided inspiration? That would basically be my goal in life, so thanks for that. You better get writing, hun! Just make sure to leave a comment on here when you do so that I know when to read and review.

Ada23Mon – thank ya! They are officially together again! Yay! :D I just hope I did it a little bit of justice, the happy stuff is hard, man. If you have any ideas on what ya wanna read, let me know.

Itsall4love – Thank you! I like to play with the writing a lot and switch the perspectives and time lines. It just makes it more lost-y, if you will. You pictured that too! I just always thought that they could've really helped each other out. Hey, great minds think alike. (actually that's false, they don't.) but that's beside the point, we're both still awesome. I'm so happy that you love it - seriously it makes me happy. I'm always working to improve that writing. Fun stuff that writing is.

I'm awkwardly rambling, sorry.

…

The marble floors were cluttered with a slobbery, baby blue blanket and plush exotic animals lounging randomly about the fancy room. A diamond chandelier hung down gracefully from the lofty ceiling; the lights were dim but the excitement was burning bright. Claire sat among the out of place toys with Aaron in her arms. The air smelled like pumpkin pie and loud, abrupt laughter only emphasized the retro music playing softly in the background. Libby watched Aaron with wonder, giggling from his antics.

The kitchen was an absolute mess – pots and pans were scattered across the granite countertops, which were now covered in sugar and powder. Kate stirred the pot fiercely as Jack attempted with all his might to remove all the remaining pieces of eggshell from the yolk. Hurley twirled around in the bar seat with a spatula dripping in cake batter in one hand and a pen in the other. "Shhhh!" He yelled suddenly interrupting a flirtatious banter between Jack and Kate.

"I'm trying to write a sentimental card here, thank you very much."

"You're writing a card?" Jack failed to suppress a giggle.

"Yeah, and I didn't even steal a word from that hallmark crap. It's all from here," he patted his heart in pride.

"You were always good with your words," Kate complimented with a laugh.

Libby walked in with a huge smile in her face,

"We should make a sign."

"A sign?"

"You know, like a welcome back sign. It makes everything more official."

"I suck at art, like really bad. But if you and Claire wanna try, go for it."

Libby laid a large piece of paper across the table, a bucket of crayons sat next to a golden centerpiece and a cornucopia filled with faux, red leaves. Aaron had fallen asleep and lay in his crib beside Claire. She felt giddy as a schoolgirl as she wrote Charlie's name in thick, bold letters with a bright, red crayon. The next morning was Charlie's graduation ceremony and everyone was coming. Afterward they would come back to Hurley's house to celebrate the milestone of recovery. Claire was excited and nervous beyond belief. She really had no idea what to expect. She hoped all the excitement wouldn't be too much. Charlie had trouble comprehending why anyone would ever want to do anything for him, and if they did he just felt undeserving and guilty. But Claire wouldn't let him do this on his own – he needed their support.

….

Aaron's cries awakened her as the clock blinked to eight fifteen a.m. A rush of excitement filled her veins in anticipation. She leaped out of the guest room bed and picked up her son before heading towards the kitchen. She slept over at Jack and Kate's apartment so that they could pick up Charlie as early as possible. Jack was eating oatmeal as he stood over the counter,

"Good morning," he smiled sleepily.

"Good morning."

"It's the big day, how're you feeling?"

"I'm great … a little scared I suppose."

"That's perfectly normal, you have no idea what to expect."

"Do you think he's… better now?"

"Yeah, I think he's probably doing great. He had a lot of motivation with you two on his mind. The addiction's not going to disappear over night, you'll both still struggle with it together, but he's gonna do everything in his power to stay healthy for you."

Claire nodded nervously, her and Jack were leaving in a few minutes to go to the ceremony while Kate took Aaron over to Hurley's to finish preparing for the party.

…..

The lobby was all too familiar to Claire - it gave her a bad case of déjà vu. The doctor appeared from behind a desk and welcomed them in warmly before leading them down the narrow, cold hallway. At the end French doors were swung open revealing a back a garden. Outside, white benches were lined up facing the front of the yard. Jack and Claire sat down near a few other people and waited patiently. After a few minutes, a group of graduates walked out together discreetly. Charlie held his head high in his leather jacket as he waved and smiled ridiculously after spotting Claire in the crowd.

At the sight of Charlie, Claire stood up and smiled brightly.

He may be an addict, a murderer, a delusional, clingy man with the tendency to be unpredictable and even dangerous. He may be a complete wreck of a man who, in theory, shouldn't be anywhere near her baby. But as he smiles at her, his eyes crinkle up in the corners and she knows he's more than a stereotype. He's Charlie – her Charlie. And though staying with him is a complete roller coaster, she couldn't imagine being happy with anyone else.

He looked so much happier; she no longer had to search for his soul somewhere inside of his distant eyes. Now, they shone luminous blue as he stared at her with open honesty. Though they were broken and battered and had seen both the tragedy of life and the bitterness of death, they still miraculously held the glimmer of innocence. The little pure, untainted bit of his heart outlived all the needles, depression, and death.

As he approached her, he spoke her name aloud and his ridiculous smile only got bigger. He took her into his arms and lifted his hand to her face lovingly. He traced it reverently as if to make sure that he had accurately portrayed the memory of her during the past weeks of thoughtful solitude. Then he leaned down to kiss her softy. Claire smiled trough the kiss before parting for breath as Charlie laughed nervously.

"Hi," Charlie whispered as their foreheads were still pressed together.

"Hi," Claire laughed at him sweetly.

"God, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

It used to make her feel foolish to go week in the knees or get stupid butterflies in the face of her cynical knowledge. But right then, all her doubts subsided. Some innocent, child like part of her believes in love again. Or maybe it's just him that she believes in now.

…..

After a few moments of simple catching up between the three, one of the doctors called the graduates up to the center. Each ex addict shared a few words of gratitude and hope. Charlie listened intently to his friend's speeches while the crowd was equally moved by each individual's story. Finally, Charlie got up and began to speak, "a couple months ago I was a bleeding mess - I was in loads of pain, got myself into all sorts of trouble, I was dying. And the worst part was that I knew I was dying. I guess I didn't even care. Or maybe I wanted to die - maybe I hated myself so much I didn't really mind. Regardless, I was in really, really bad shape. I could barely function, I was always high, all my relationships were destroyed, and I was completely and utterly alone. I used to be full of passion for my music, but that was gone. The band had nothing to do with music anymore. It was just a way of forgetting – forgetting what I had become. I tried so hard to forget everything that when I finally remembered a little bit of the truth, it hit me hard." He smiled faintly at Claire, "I guess she made me feel something other than pain again. It sorta scared me. In a good way, mind. But I really think she changed me. Now I know who I am again … and I don't hate it anymore. I really like it, actually. So thanks for that. Thank you to everybody who was willing to help a worthless, hopeless junkie. You all saved my life."

The crowd clapped politely with an emotionally ridden air. Claire smiled at Charlie with evident pride in her tear-glazed eyes.

Charlie introduced Claire and Jack to the doctors and patients before saying his bittersweet goodbyes. He kept his hand intertwined with Claire's throughout the morning; the knowledge of her presence proved to be almost overwhelming. They finally made their way back to the car. Jack casually explained that they were going to see Hurley at his house and Charlie willingly accepted. During the ride, Charlie detailed the last month in rehab. He told of the brutality of detox and how refreshing it was to go trough the pain with people who were going through the very same thing. He described daily life and the friendships he formed. He spoke of his own recovery – his loneliness, pain, and doubt. The dilemma of how he could not really relate to anyone due to his unique and equally hard to believe reality. The crippling fear of failure loomed over his constant longing for his family. But the importance of health for them proved to be the perfect motivation. While he would still continue to go to follow up counseling, the drugs were now behind him.

Once they arrived at the house, Claire's anxiety got the best of her. She almost pushed Charlie out of the car with obvious anticipation. Charlie looked at her in mock horror, "You've wounded me! Abuse!" He cried out in mock pain as she shook her head disapprovingly, "always the dramatic."

Jack laughed quietly to himself at their antics as they came to the door.

Charlie looked back at Claire suspiciously before pressing the doorbell hesitantly. Loud, heavy footfalls foreshadowed the twisting of the doorknob. As Hurley opened the door, uncoordinated, excited yells of "surprise!" erupted from inside. Before Charlie even had the chance to react, Hurley was above him, engulfing him in a hug,

"Dude, you're alive!"

Charlie laughed, "Hurley! … It's been much to long, my friend."

Hurley let him out of his embrace to see a crowd of his dearest friends. Sawyer lifted his beer bottle in a celebratory gesture and hollered a hearty "howdy, jiminy cricket. Nice to see you back with the gang."

The figures surrounded him like cherished shadows in dim, dreamy light. Old, familiar tunes played softly from the record player as the sound of welcoming words filled the open space.

Someone patted his back from behind, he looked back to see Sun and Jin smiling at him.

"Good job, Charlie," Sun whispered sincerely as Jin added, "we are very proud of you."

"Jin, you can speak English now? Good for you, mate!"

Suddenly, Charlie heard a thick middle-eastern accent call his name. Sayid stood beside Shannon with a welcoming smile. They both greeted him warmly. After a pleasant conversation, Charlie noticed Kate holding Aaron in the kitchen and hastily made his way over. Kate smiled at him and gave the baby over to him without a word. He looked at Aaron's face with such genuine adoration that only a father could display. Aaron's chubby little arms reached to touch his face sweetly. Right then Charlie heard Locke's sympathetic voice before him, "I'm proud of you, son."

Charlie looked up at him in surprise; pride and appreciation was the last thing he expected from John Locke. "Thank you, John."

"I just hope we can put the past behind us. I've realized that I was wrong about you, you've become a better man than I'll ever be."

Charlie stood stunned; as much as he wanted so badly to hate this man, he couldn't. He played such a big part in Charlie's life, he couldn't let past mistakes take away from the priceless role he played.

"All's forgiven. That's what second chances are for, yeah?"

"Thank you, Charlie. I really appreciate it."

As if on cue, an unmistakable, Scottish accent yelled his name as a strong hand hit his back, "ya did it, ya bas. You bloody well saved us all!"

"What are you talking about, Des? You're the one who figured all this out. Not me."

"You're the one that crashed that car, brother. You got me thinking right. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't all be together now. You told me yourself, you saw something real – you saw the truth when no one else could see it. You're a good man, Charlie. You're the hero." Desmond smiled as if his statement should have been evident.

"Desmond … I really don't know what to say."

"Save it, Charles. Just remember it, aye?"

Penny came towards the two men with an excited look on her pretty face, "Charlie, Charlie Pace?"

"Ya, and you must be Penny."

She grabbed his hands and looked him in the eyes,

"Thank you, thank you so much, for everything."

"You're quite welcome …"

She turned to face Desmond with a questioning look, "Did you tell him Des?"

"Oh, that. No, not yet."

Charlie peered at the couple acquisitively, "tell Charlie what now?"

Penny laughed and shrugged slightly, "nothing much. It's just that Desmond really appreciated what you did back on the island – the sacrifice that you made. After I found him, we got married and had a son together. And see … we named our son after you, Charlie.

Charlie laughed in unbelief, someone naming their kid after him wasn't necessarily something he imagined checking off the 'to do' list, if you will. "That's why I've always wanted to meet you," Penny continued sweetly.

"Well, I hope I don't disappoint you too much."

Penny's laugh reverberated along with the rest of the laughter filling the room with a friendly ring. Charlie made his way back to Claire and put his arm around her as he looked down at Aaron with admiration.

…..

The night was a complete success. For once, no one spoke a word of conspiracies, schemes, or plans. No one voiced theories or fears. They simply enjoyed each other's company. They laughed at memories and remembered the good times. What they lost there on that island became irrelevant compared to what they had gained. They had discovered their true selves and they found each other; they saved each other. As stupid as it sounded, that's really all that mattered now – redemption through the bittersweet trials of love and the sacrifice of oneself for another desperate sinner. They feasted together as a family; a big, expanded, confused, dysfunctional family and celebrated just being alive again.

…..

As the early hours of morning fell, Jack, Kate and Charlie, Claire, and Aaron finally headed out. Jack drove the little family to their apartment. Charlie noticed the cleanliness as soon as they arrived. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen this floor," he yelled in surprise.

"Shhh" Claire pulled her one free hand to her lips as she held Aaron close.

"That's just sad."

"Well, I like what you've done to the place," he mockingly picked up a teddy bear as he looked around the floor at the surrounding toys.

Claire shook her head at him, "would you like to put him to bed?"

"It would be my pleasure." He carefully took Aaron from her arms and followed the direction of where Claire pointed. Once he saw the crib, he kneeled down and gently lifted him into his bed. He kissed the top of the baby's head softy.

"I really missed you, turnip head. I hope you missed me to, not too much, mind - Just enough to appreciate my current presence, of course."

Claire leaned in the corner of the doorway, mesmerized at his ease. She watched as he began to sing to the little boy. The connection between the two of them never ceased to amaze her. The fact that they shared no blood relation only amplified the wonder of their effortless love. Her son didn't carry his name, but he carried his heart, his love. He loved him selflessly and unconditionally. And she couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight.

The dim light of the freshly lit candle flickered warm, peaceful gleams. The atmosphere was still and peaceful as Charlie's raspy voice fell up and down along with Aaron's steady breathing.

"_Catch a falling star an' put it in your pocket, _

_Never let it fade away_

_Catch a falling star an' put it in your pocket,_

_Save it for a rainy day_

_For love may come and tap you on the shoulder some starless night_

_Just in case you feel you wanna hold her …" _

Claire chimed in with a whisper,

"_You'll have a pocket full of starlight." _

Charlie smiled up at her in the doorway,

"You're a natural."

Claire laughed, "did you write anything while you were gone?"

"I wrote a ton, actually. I was really feeling it, y'know. Severely inspired," he noted with animated expression at his accomplishment.

"I think that happens after someone realizes their life so closely resembles a science fiction movie."

"Well, yes. There is that..."

"Would you play one?"

"Claire … I don't know. I mean, maybe I could. It's just …"

"Charlie, you're a rock star, remember."

"Very true. It's just different with you, if that makes any sense."

"Don't worry, I won't make you. It's just back on the island you used to play for me all the time, I miss that."

"But those songs weren't about you."

"You wrote about me?"

"Yeah, of course I did. Look, I'll play one for you, my guitars in the front room."

"Are you sure you want to?"

"Yeah … yeah. Completely."

She took a look back at her sleeping son before tiptoeing slowly after Charlie. It was surreal to have him here, in his own home. He sat on the couch with his beloved, red, beat up guitar propped up on his lap as he nervously fidgeted to a made up beat. She sat beside him patiently waiting.

"I wrote this one during the first week. I was in a whole lotta pain and I really missed you. I guess I was sorta afraid that I'd never get better for you; that I'd never be worthy of you. I hoped to God that you weren't wasting a single tear on me." He breathed a deep sigh and looked down towards his guitar. His eyes held the profound look of vulnerability. They were broken in utter honesty and that hint of beautiful fear that anyone who has ever been in real love can understand.

A quiet, soft tune filled the comfortable silence.

_Well, I was packing bags like a bat out of hell _

_And you were slippin on your dress_

_I was punching holes in a ticket to downtown mass _

_Where the spirit fled away from by body_

_Like a fire that I never lit_

_Have you ever seen a man so broken _

_As that one man that you were looking at?_

_I could try again if you wanted me to_

_I swear I'll be a better man_

_I swear to the heavens I'll forget all the past_

_Just say that you need me again_

_Have you ever seen a man so broken as that one man that you were looking at?_

_I just need you, my love _

_I just need you, my love_

_You were looking east with the heaviest heart _

_That I could ever recall seeing_

_Time is not the answer you want _

_But time is what we got_

_Have you ever seen a man burn brighter with love _

_Then the man that you are looking at?_

_The answer is no_

_No, no, no_

_It's no_

_So, love, love _

_Come and save me _

_Love, come and save me from the drowning_

_Love, love_

_Come and save me. _

…_. _

a/n: So yeah, they're together again. Pretty cool. This chapter was hard, so many people to write in so little time. (I'll use all the other characters a lot more from now on.)

For The next chapter, I'm gonna pick up right where I left off. I don't think I've actually ever done that before, huh.

The song was 'Love, come save me now' by Right Away, Great Captain.

I was randomly listening to it while I was writing and thought, "hmm that kinda works,' so I just altered the lyrics a bit and went with it. I wanted to do something more obscure to make it believable. Plus, the sound is beautiful, you can just imagine Charlie playing like that. And, as we all know, 'Catch a Falling Star' is by Perry Como and happens to be crazy adorable.

What are you dolls wanting to read? Suggestions? Advice? Critique? Appreciation that I'm totally flattered about even though I don't deserve it?

Whateves man. I'll take it.


	11. Chapter 11

No Such Thing as Time.

Chapter Eleven.

Hiya people,

If you're reading this, I want to say that I'm sincerely sorry for taking so excruciatingly long between chapters. I know it's terrible, but midterms have left me with no time. Hopefully you can all understand. I'm not ditching the story and I'll continue to write as long as I receive reviews and know that someone is reading. Anyways … sorry ya'll - don't hate me, pretty please!

Ada23Mon – thank ya dear, I do tend to write too much. force of habit, I think.

Mediocrebadguy – thank you very much! Very glad you liked it, especially since I'm so self-conscious about writing fluff.

Violet Scarlet Lily – you asked for fluff, so that's what I've written. ;)

…..

"I never wrote love songs before."

The faint beginnings of that undeniably audacious smile crossed his red tinted face as he looked up her.

"… Before you."

She bit her lip nervously - she really couldn't remember how to respond to compliments anymore. It was just like how she had forgotten how to react to any form of affection or appreciation. When all you know is abuse and abandonment, the uncertainty of love tends to scare you.

"Why not?"

"Well, Liam would think that I was a pansy, for starters. Not to mention the fact that I happen to be in a rock band. All heat, no heart necessary." He rolled his eyes and laughed at himself.

"That's really a shame, you're lovely at it."

"I don't know about that … but I think the main reason I never did was because I couldn't have written a word about something I didn't understand in the slightest."

"Oh come on, Charlie. Don't tell me you've never been in love."

Charlie's eyes went wide as he nodded his head in confirmation.

"Your famous, for goodness sake. I don't believe that for a moment."

"Believe what you will, but that would be the honest, ugly truth of the matter."

"Whatever you say. But remember, we do have VH1 in Australia. It's not like I'm completely ignorant of what goes on behind the scenes of the rock star life."

"Oh yeah? What goes on then?" He smirked at her in an all-knowing sort of way.

"Well, I do know that there are all sorts of scandalous sluts throwing themselves all over musicians like yourself for no apparent reason, without any self respect what so ever, and absolutely no one seems to have any form of common decency."

"True." He laughed at her sadly realistic generalization while propping his elbows on his guitar and laying his face in his hands.

"That's just the problem. It's all just empty lust - a vast array of broken, fragile people acting as if nobody can hurt them; pretending like they're invincible. But it's not real. It's all just one big, fancy illusion- completely fake. I've thought I was in love plenty of times before, but after I remembered you, I saw the truth."

"The truth?"

"That everything else was a lie."

She smiled softly at him, "What if I told you that I'd never been in love either."

"Then I'd say you were a dirty, rotten liar."

"Just because I have a baby doesn't exactly mean…"

"No, no. It's not that," he stopped her abruptly. Aaron's biological father still made him uncomfortable despite himself.

"It's just that I can't imagine a fetching young lady, such as yourself, all alone. Honest, you've got in all - Smart, sweet, stubborn; in a good way, mind. Hmm … understanding, patient, you've got a great sense of humor, rapturously beautiful. Oh, and tolerant…."

"_Very_ tolerant," she beamed.

"Yes, _very_ tolerant."

She nodded her head approvingly, "I think I was just insecure and caught up in the idea of somebody loving me. It was after the accident and I had nobody to fall back on, so that was Thomas. But we weren't ever in love. We were just using each other for our own selfish reasons. It wasn't real and I accepted that, I faked it."

"Well, we all know that man was a sick bastard. He was taking advantage of you in a weak point all for his own benefit, the wanker! You shouldn't blame yourself."

"Just like how you shouldn't blame yourself so much?"

"Ah, using my own words against me, eh? You think your all smart."

"You just said I was."

"True." He found it funny how even their deepest, darkest conversations became light. They could laugh through anything- literally anything. He was far from an expert, but he thought that the beauty of those moments must have been what kept them together.

"Well, we must both be very sad individuals then," he smirked, "if it takes a second life for us poor souls to find love. Or keep it, rather."

She gave a dramatic sigh and nodded with emphasis, "Maybe it's not entirely bad."

"If nothing else, there is a sort of poetic feel about it."

"Poetry," she smiled brightly at his observation and looked up to see his eyes on hers with gripping tension. The attempt at looking Subtle always seemed to fail miserably when it came to Charlie.

And then he kissed her. Gentle, lingering - as if both were taking time to memorize the feeling before gradually deepening in hopeless desperation. He didn't have time to think, but he was pretty sure he had lost his lungs because his breath was gone. Maybe he lost his mind too, cause his mind was as blank as a page. All he could focus on was that moment. He thought the same thing must be happening to Claire; he could just sense emotion through it. It was like his entire soul was focused on her, all the billions of worries in his brain disappeared as he held her close. More memories seemed to flood back slowly like old photographs to a worn mind as he framed her face with his hands. Pent up passion was out in the open and it wasn't nearly as terrifying as it had originally seemed, in fact, it was perfect. But the perfection ended much to soon as Claire abruptly turned her head away. He felt as if he had been tossed out of the moment with a harsh jolt that left him nauseous and confused.

"I should get to bed, it's getting pretty late."

"Sure, of course…"

She gave him a sympathetic look, "Will you be alright on the couch? I would offer to sleep there but I've got Aaron."

"Yeah, yeah. It's cool."

She smiled shyly and exited to the bedroom leaving the door open to a small crack. He watched until the light flickered off and darkness finally surrounded him except for the faint orange glow from the candle. He blew it out and fell down to the old, worn, black couch. It was held up with duck tape and patches and the blanket covering him was soft and tattered. He attempted to get comfortable despite the stiff fabric of his jeans and the short length of the couch itself. He closed his eyes to the noises of the city and silently prayed for Liam. He asked for recovery and redemption for his beloved, big brother. He prayed for his own health and the strength required to carry on even in the undeniable pain and confusion still running wild through his newly freed mind. Finally, he prayed for his little family and his often unpredictable and sometimes unstable relationship with the love of his life. He knew he would never understand most of his life, but he hoped for some sort of reassurance.

…..

He woke up with a stiff back on the cramped couch with dim, early morning light pouring in from the window above him. His head throbbed as he slowly got up and checked the time. He counted the hours between California and Australia and sighed deeply at the realization of what he knew he had to do.

He walked to the bedroom door, which was still open to a small crack. He gently opened it and peered inside. Claire lay peacefully on the bed taking in small breaths every few moments. Aaron lay close beside her with a tower of pillows at his side blocking off the side of the bed. He walked towards them and smoothed back Aaron's soft hair before carefully kissing Claire's cheek without waking her. He smiled back at them and left for the kitchen. He grabbed his leather jacket, wrote a quick note in thick, bold letters, sat it on the counter, and walked out the door.

Cold wind and a breath full of second hand cigarette smoke filled his lungs as the shadows danced around him. Thick, passion filled voices nothing like his rambled on as they occupied the dark, musty atmosphere with fits of intoxicated giggles. Neon flickered inconsistently, briefly giving light to the fog. The sound of sirens drowned out angry horns and distant rumblings of drum beats from the insides of taxicabs. He sat down on a dirty bench near the bus stop covered in pointless ads and dried up bubble gum. The gentle buzz of the phone ring sent fearful tingling down his spine. A heavy but sweet Australian accent answered with a simple, "hello?"

"Karen?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Karen, hey. It's Charlie."

"What happened? Is he okay?" her voice became slightly frantic as if expecting the worst.

"Yeah, yeah, Liam's fine. That's why I was calling, actually. He's in rehab."

"What? Are you serious? How in the world did you manage that?"

"Well, it wasn't easy, but he's completely committed. I just got out myself, see, so I sorta convinced him that it'd be a good idea."

"I just can't believe it. It doesn't sound like him at all."

"No, it does. You've just never heard what Liam really sounds like. Deep down he's got a good side, and he's bloody fighting for it Karen. He's doing it for you - for you and Meagan. You've got to believe me."

"I don't know, Charlie …"

"Please, Karen, give him a chance."

"I have to think about Meagan, I have to be an example for her. I have to think about myself."

"But you don't understand, if you knew fully you'd rethink it."

"I'm sure you mean well, Charlie, I really do, but I don't think you understand. Not everyone gets a second chance."

"Only because you're not willing to give it."

"I've given him too many chances, alright. But then he dropped Meagan." Her voice broke as she took in a sharp breath, "He dropped her…."

There was a long pause before she continued in a biting tone, "That's when I realized that he cared more about his filthy drugs than his own daughter."

"Karen please … let me explain."

"I can't."

The distinct, sharp sound of dial tone blared in his ear causing him to jolt back in shock. He leaned his head back against the bench in defeat before his head fell in to his hands. His breath shook despite himself as cold breeze made him shiver. He had failed his brother even when the desire to come to his rescue was as strong as ever. He promised that he would make things right. But what if he couldn't? What if Karen was right? Maybe some people just don't get second chances.

He threw his jacket to the wooden floor as he fell into the couch with his heavy heart breaking for his brother. The windows were wide-open letting in cool breeze and the scent of fresh coffee filled the flat. Claire walked out of the kitchen with a breath of relief and Aaron in her arms. She sat down beside Charlie and handed the baby over to him and pulled out the note from her pants pocket. "Don't worry, I'm just out for a walk. Love you," she read with a raised eyebrow, "I did worry."

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. Had to make a phone call."

"A phone call?"

"Yeah, I had to call Karen. She kicked Liam out, ya know. I needed to tell her that he's in rehab. I thought she might give him another chance."

"Well, did she?"

"No."

He looked down at the floor and closed his eyes to block out emotion. She sat close to him in silence. Aaron gurgled playfully and threw his hands up to touch Charlie's face. Charlie smiled faintly at the gesture and looked back up to Claire, "I'm sorry. I'm just … disappointed."

"I know, but it's not your fault. It's up to Liam, not you. Maybe she'll come around once she sees his progress."

"And maybe she won't."

"Yeah, maybe she won't. Not everyone's story is just like yours, just because I stayed around doesn't mean she will too. Plus, she isn't even aware of the other universe. All she knows is the addict in Liam, that's it. The two of them are in very different head-spaces right now."

"So what do I do now?"

She raised her shoulders, "let it be?"

He smiled at her and nodded, "speaking my language, eh? I guess you're right."

She nodded appreciatively before standing back up, "I'm going out with Kate and Shannon, you can come if ya like, I sort of imagined you'd rather stay home."

"Yeah, I'll watch Aaron for you. I've got to make a couple more phone calls anyway."

"Who?"

"Patrick and Sinjin mainly. I haven't talked to them since the concert."

"Are you sure you don't want to go and actually talk to them in person?"

"Honestly, I have absolutely no bleeding idea where they're staying, God only knows where on earth those barbarous gits could be lurking."

"Well, alright then," she laughed at his ever blunt comments, "are you sure you don't mind watching him?"

"Are you kidding? It would be my honor."

"Perfect. I'll see ya later then," she swung her purse around her shoulder and after a light kiss on her forehead from Charlie she was out of the apartment in a swift wave of curly blond hair and a content smile.

As the door shut behind her, Charlie couldn't help but feeling a sudden pain of loneliness. The silence of the moment didn't help much either until Aaron finally broke it with a gurgle. Charlie looked down at the baby in his arms and then at his phone on the table beside him. The thought of speaking to his former band mates felt a bit like listening to some of the worst memories of his past through the bad connection of cheep pay phones on the other side. He lifted Aaron into his high chair and brought him some breakfast before hesitantly picking up the phone. With a deep sigh he began to dial the all to familiar number,

"Terrific."

…

a/n: ah so I get to write Patrick and sinjin next, should be interesting. What did ya'll think about Claire's interruption there? What about Liam and Karen, do you think they should end up together? Well, tell me what you think. Suggestions are also appreciated. Basically, I'd really like to know if anyone is still reading, so if you are let me know, yeah?


	12. Chapter 12

No Such Thing as Time.

Chapter twelve.

Disclaimer: Lost ain't mine. I also don't own Patsy Cline or the beach boys. (I never thought I'd have to say that. Awkward ...)

a/n: This is the last chapter I'll be writing in 2011. Very exciting.

I hate to say it, but this chapter is a bit of a filler. Don't hate me, tis a necessary evil, I promise. (Basically I just wanted to get it up so that I could work on the next one.)

Violet Scarlet Lily- I'M SO HAPPY THAT YOU'RE STILL HERE! Thank you, I do try. It's sort of natural to write him at this point. It's weird cause I thought he would be the hardest. Aww I'm so glad I made you smile, that is the entire point really.

StrawberryxSunlight – Yay! You reviewed! And I thought I had lost you… I completely understand, don't worry about it. Thank you so very much, dear. As always, it is very much appreciated! Okay, I'll keep it up. I completely agree with you on the Charlie/Liam thing.

Oh, and I wrote a little Jate just for you.

Ada23Mon- Good! Thank you! I feel ya, drama is always good. let him suffer, got it. haha I'm gonna address the couch issue in the chapter after this, should be interesting. Bear with me. ;)

Let's get on with it, shall we?

…

"Ello," a thick, cockney tone breathed apathetically through the speaker.

"Sin! How're ya, mate?"

"Pace? That you?" "Yeah, yeah, it's me," Charlie laughed through his words at his friend's excitement.

"Thank Christ! Finally! Where ya been, ya bass?"

"Gettin' myself cleaned up, found myself a girl…"

" `Ang on, mate, ya high?"

"Sober and sane, on my honor."

"Wow…." His voice feel deep in seriousness, "Believe me, I'm happy for you mate. I don't mean to put ya down here, but I've been patiently awaiting your return for yonks and I gotta start making the bread now. I need to know if you plan on dropping the band or no."

"No, of course not." Charlie practically cut him off with a yell, "I never meant to abandon it at all. I understand that I must look like a sodding, terrible git to you, I really do, but it was all for good reason, alright? You've gotta believe me on this one, I hit rock bottom, I'm sorry."

"And I forgive you, I'm a forgiving one, y'know. I don't do grudges anymore. I'm not thrilled bout what you did, but I am glad you're not giv'n up on us just yet."

"Look, sin, I wanna make it up to you, I wanna get the band back to the way it used to be."

"Well, most of our chances here `ve already gone to pot, but I'm willing to give it another shot if you are. We've got to get Liam and Patrick in though."

"Where's he, I thought the two of you were rooming together?"

"Eh, yeah." Sinjin breathed in deep with an obvious depth of annoyance in the sound, "he was 'aving terrible trouble with the lack a substance for awhile, now he comes and goes amongst himself - Sometimes 'e's not back for nights ata time." His voice dropped to a whisper, "If ya ask me, I'd say he turned criminal for the stuff. The stupid bleeder…" He paused, "he's always been into that dodgy business but I think he's really gone and hit bottom now, without the gigs to keep em in line."

"Bloody hell!" Charlie cried throwing his head back in guilt, "what've I done!" Sinjin's words overwhelmed him with regret and shame - he couldn't just escape his past after all. It's never really that easy.

"You've gone and done a whole lot, that's what. Got your friends pinching dough to feed the pocket deity, now. You gotta help me get em back in line. Or at least healthy enough to bang on the bloody drums."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"How bout using your loaf, eh, Charlie boy? Hatch some sort of brilliant plan in that stellar head of yours, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, alright. I'll do all I can."

"Sure thing, mate. You comin' to see me any time soon?"

"I'd be happy to, still staying in the same place?"

"Of course."

"How does tomorrow sound then?"

"Perfect."

The dial tone returned abruptly.

It was just like Sinjin to babble until he gets bored and then drop whatever it is entirely. Charlie just shook his head and continued to feed Aaron.

Aaron's sweet noises grew louder as Charlie gave him the last spoonful of baby food. He lifted Aaron out of the seat in a fit of inspiration and twirled him around. He found a pen and one of his notebooks and sat down with Aaron across from him on the ground.

"You ready to write some hit worthy lyrics, hmm turnip head?"

Aaron continued to stare at him with a sort of confused look and one skeptical, little raised eyebrow.

"Now, don't give me any of your cheek, mister," Charlie yelled playfully at the baby who smiled and gurgled in response.

…

"Hey, look! There's a proper looking caff up on the side of the road there," Claire pointed through the dusty car window as she road shotgun beside Kate in the drivers seat.

"Oh my god, Coffee sounds amazing right now," Shannon practically sang from the backseat as she looked up from her cell phone.

Claire laughed at her dramatic enthusiasm before adding, "Aaron kept me awake most of the night, I think I could use a cup too."

Shannon shook her head disapprovingly, "I feel for you, Claire, I really do. I could never handle a kid, that takes some serious skill."

Claire laughed, "You have no idea."

After parking, the three women entered the quaint, busy café and sat down at a table together. A small vase full of flowers in the center decorated the table nicely and menus lay scattered across it. A waiter came and Kate ordered three coffees, "it's on me," she smiled. "You better have that raw, organic sugar stuff!" Shannon yelled back at the waiter with a threatening glare as he walked away.

"So how have you both been lately?" Claire questioned politely.

"Amazing." Kate replied generally, "I'm still adjusting though."

"I think we all are a little bit," Claire reassured.

"Yeah, I know. I guess I'm just not used to having jack gone all day long." She added a hint of sarcasm, "Oh yeah, and the fact that I'm now the surrogate mother of fifteen year old."

"At least Jack has a frickn' job," Shannon butted in bluntly, "I love my man, but he lives with his brother's family and I'm definitely feeling some friction between them. I think they hate me."

"Aren't the two of you going to get a place together?" Claire questioned.

"Yeah, we just haven't found the right one yet. I'll make sure he gets the hell outta that house after I find something decent."

"What about you and Charlie?" Kate questioned sweetly, "How are things in paradise?"

Claire looked up at her as if surprised to be included, "oh, we're great," she carefully tucked a piece of fallen hair behind her ear with a forced smile.

"Uh oh," Shannon sighed, "I'd know that look anywhere."

"What happened, Claire?" Kate asked genuinely concerned.

"Nothing, really, I mean it. It's all wonderful … I guess I just feel like I'm sort of blocking him out, if you will."

Shannon was beginning to look intrigued, "What do mean?"

"I think we just haven't got everything settled yet."

"You mean about his death, don't you?" Kate interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah. It's not that I hate him for it, I'm not even bitter towards him. I love him - I love him so entirely, so … completely. It's just … he's so honest with me. There's just so much love, so much vulnerability about him. It scares me to death." She sipped her coffee with blurred eyes, "I'm just so … so scared."

"Oh, sweetie, no. It's gonna be okay," Kate grabbed her hand in comfort.

"But why would that scare you, I don't understand," Shannon questioned with a concerned look.

"He died for me Shannon, let himself die! I was the reason for that – me. What if it happens again, what if I'm hurting him without even knowing it? I know he'd do anything for me and Aaron."

"You have to stop blaming yourself, Claire! It was his decision, not yours. I know you feel guilty but -"

"- But you don't understand. The guilt - it's overwhelming, I can't even explain it. It was my fault, I've always known that, but when he actually looked me in the eyes and told me that he died for me …" She looked down to the floor as she fought down the thick emotion creating a lump in her throat, "it hurts."

"He probably doesn't even realizing that he's putting you through this," Kate shook her head with a sigh, "You need to talk to him, Claire."

"I know," she forced a smile, "there's a lot still unresolved between us, still a lot of confusion neither of us wants to talk about."

"I think we both can relate," Kate looked at Shannon with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, we can. After I died, Sayid got married to another woman who, in this universe, just happens to be his sister in law. And now he lives with them. He lives with her Claire! Talk about awkward situations, there is so no way I'm ever gonna be okay with that, I don't care what he says."

Kate nodded, "Yeah, I'm in the same boat. Sometimes I want to resent Jack for everything he put me through back on the island, but in my heart, I know it all happened for a reason. We're all dealing with this, Claire, you're not alone."

…

Claire stepped out of the car and turned to Kate, "Thank you for today," she smiled.

"No problem. You're going to talk to Charlie, right?"

'Yeah, I am. I'm a little nervous though. I'll try and do it tonight."

"Good for you."

Claire smiled with a hesitant nod before waving goodbye.

She walked up the steps rehearsing what she would say to Charlie. She couldn't even think of his death without cold, unsettling shivers breaking out all over her body. She usually just forced herself to forget - that was the easiest thing to do. Over the years she had mastered the art of blocking out painful memories and it always seemed to be a legitimate way of coping. But after last night she couldn't hide the fear, all the emotion seemed to come back. The kiss from the night before was just so honest, so … transparent – an open glance into her soul. She wasn't sure what of make of it, but she knew that she couldn't hide even her most buried worries through it. And that's when she knew she couldn't forget at all.

As She approached the door she heard the distinct sound of drums coming from the room, she shook her head and smiled as she soundlessly opened the door.

Balled up notebook paper cluttered the floor along with a few scattered toys. The record player spun around and around blaring the beach boy's steep vocals and lovely harmonies. Claire leaned on the frame of the door as she watched Charlie spin Aaron around in circles to the beats.

Though the music overwhelmed the soft sound of the door opening, Charlie could feel Claire's steady glance upon him. He quickly turned around to see her laughing silently at his antics. He shook his head unsatisfied before lifting out his arm in a polite gesture, "care to dance, Miss?"

"I'd love to," she giggled.

He nodded appreciatively before pulling her in with his free arm. Aaron cooed softly as he lay on Charlie's chest supported by his right arm. They both smiled at the baby before Charlie burst in to song, "I was living like half a man, then I couldn't love, but now I can. You pick me up when I'm feeling sad, more soul than I ever had..."

Then with a high pitched mock tone, "I'm gonna love you every single night, cause I think you're too outta sight!" Claire burst in to laughter as the soft jingle of a phone ring began to play in the background. They ignored it until it stopped and then began to ring again. In between fits of laughter Claire spoke breathlessly, "Wait, wait … Charlie, pick up the phone."

"Do I really have to?"

"Yes."

He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes in mock annoyance as he picked up the phone, "hullo?"

"Is this Mr. pace?"

"Yeah, last time I checked"

"Hello, Mr. Pace, I'm a assistant for ABC news. We've decided to do a segment on Driveshafts's failed tour and we were curious to see if you would be willing to participate in an interview for our evening show. Would you be interested?"

Charlie's face dropped in total seriousness before a smiled curved on his face with undeniable excitement, "Are you serious?" He began to laugh with unbelieving raised eyebrows, "Are you bloody serious?"

"Of course, Mr. Pace."

"Yeah, yeah, of course I'll chit chat on your fancy news station interview."

He beamed at Claire with a look of unbelief as her mouth dropped at his statement.

" Eight o'clock Saturday? Got it. Thank you so much, sir, I really do appreciate it."

He hung up and looked at Clare, "Well, it's a good thing I picked the tellie up, huh?"

…

Kate pulled up the thick, dark shades covering the windows in jack's apartment. The sleek, modern, dark tones were not enough to contain her wild heart. She opened the window letting in the warm, California air. Maybe it would keep her sane for the day. These few hours were the worst, Jack was at work and David was at school. Claire was with Charlie and Aaron and everyone else seemed to be in the middle of something -everyone, except her. Jack had made her swear never to go out alone for fear of getting caught. So for now, midday seemed to be the time where she had to come up with ways to keep herself busy. She hummed a tune, which in turn gave her an idea. She jumped up and ran to the bedroom, grabbing her bag with anticipation.

She reached deep into the duffle and gently pulled a mix tape from it. She laughed in delight as an excited grin graced her face. Carefully, she put the tape into the player and listened close as it began to make noise -

"I go out walking, after midnight.

Out in the moonlight,

Just like we used to do.

I'm always walking after midnight

Searching for you."

Her smile only grew as Patsy Cline's familiar twang filled her ears. She began to mouth the lyrics as she swayed back and forth basking in the light from the open window.

She would be okay, at least for now.

The door swung open and then closed with a harsh bang making her jolt in surprise. David trudged into the kitchen with his head hung low. He threw his backpack onto the counter with a thud, unzipped the backpack, and pulled out a large book with a heavy sigh. "Bad day?" Kate asked. He wrung his hand through his hair and whispered, "yeah."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

He pulled out his ipod from his backpack pocket and put the headphones in his ears before blasting music into them.

Her heart sank.

…..

She waited for David for nearly two hours in the kitchen. He never came out. His door was shut and locked, not a single sound came through it.

Finally she decided to call it a night. 'Jack must be working late tonight,' she thought to herself sadly before turning on a lamp in the entryway for him. She closed the bedroom door and pulled the covers of the bed over her head. Her thoughts were moving much to fast to process and the anxiety began to set in. She hated to sleep, mostly because she hated to stay still. She tossed and turned until her brain finally gave in.

Kate jolted awake as she felt the bed move slightly, she turned to see Jack beside her and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, it's okay. You just scared me," she laughed at herself silently, "How was work?"

"It was fine, nothing I haven't seen before," he shrugged, "how was your day?"

'I went out to eat with Shannon and Claire."

"Oh yeah, how was that?"

"It was good," she whispered.

Jack wasn't convinced, "What happened?"

"Nothing happened, jack. I'm just starting to think that the magic of our situation is beginning to wear off. Real problems that we thought didn't matter are coming back. I guess we should've expected it, there's a lot to think about … but we just assumed we were too happy to ever worry again."

"Like what?" Jack's smile faded as fear crept into his bright eyes.

"For starters, I'm hiding from the government," she whispered in a biting tone and continued her rant, "I'm a wanted murderer, Jack. Nothing can change that. I have to hide, everyday. And now I have to think about a fifteen year old boy who happens to have Juliet Burke as a mother."

"Look, I know it's an awkward situation."

"You think? He's confused, Jack. We're putting him through hell with all of this. You need to talk to him."

"Honeymoon's over, huh?" he laughed with an innocent gleam in his eye until her fierce glare broke his lighthearted air, " I'll talk to him, Kate, don't worry."

She nodded hesitantly, "good."

…..

a/n: Oh dear, it's terribly early in the morning! I should probably sleep now. Sorry for the horrible, choppyness goin' on, I'm freakishly tired. I'll be addressing the issues I touched on in the next two chapter I think, so like I said before - bear with me.

Thank ya lots.

See you in TWOTHOUSANDANDTWELVE doll faces!

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	13. Chapter 13

No Such Thing as Time

Chapter (not an unlucky number) 13

Disclaimer: if ya recognize it, I don't own it.

A/N: WE'RE ALIVE, I told you violet scarlet lily! Haha

Sorry this took ages, school is crushing my time and creativity. Sigh…

Violet Scarlet Lily – I feel for her too, but I also admire her strength, I don't know many people in reality who could deal with all that craziness. I was hoping you'd feel uneasy with the band thing, that's kinda my intention. We'll see how it plays out, I guess… Kate's situation is so awful, they didn't put any emphasis on the awkwardness in the actual show, so I felt the need to detail it more.

AdaMon23- I'm writing the interview next chapter, I think it'll really make things interesting. ;)

StrawberryxSunlight- it is pretty bittersweet. I can relate to Claire a bit (not in all the island insanity, of course) But some of the emotions were really interesting to write cause I felt pretty attached to them, and it just made sense. I think you'll like the outcome in this chapter. I like your idea! I totally forgot about that. I'll try and fit them in in one of the next two chapters

Yankeehater- thank you, it's always great to have some reassurance!

…..

A tall, lanky figure pushes through the morning air as a breath of white smoke escapes his lips. With a pale, skeletal arm he draws a cigarette away from his placid face. He moves through the city streets as if he owns it – an aura of confidence oozes from his fearless soul. He leans against a building as if lounging in a palace, watching people walk by through black stained sunglasses, cigarette in one hand, bottle of booze in the other. His jet black hair falls atop his head in random, aimless strands emphasizing his angular face. He hums a tune as he raises the bottle to his lips, tapping the glass to a beat. His head leans back on the brick wall outside the bar, another day of waiting for Patrick. He would show up some time, and when it happened, it'd be here.

Without Patrick, Sinjin was nothing. He was nothing but a lonely face in the crowd, 5,280 miles from home. He had no purpose, no goal, and hardly any hope. He watched as tired faces hurried past, a billion thoughts running rampart in his mind. He leaned his head back in frustration and hoped to the heavens that Charlie would come today. He needed someone familiar to give him hope – to give him purpose.

After a few hours of pointless waiting he finally forced himself to get back to the hotel.

He fell back to the couch, grabbing his guitar and placing it on his lap. He strummed aimlessly.

A rhythmic tap at the door made him jump up. Suspense mounting, he walked a bit faster than his natural stride.

He opened the door to see a small figure in a familiar black hoodie.

"Charles Hieronymus Pace, 's that you, mate?" He flashed a warm, welcoming smile, strikingly different from his former apathetic state.

"Hey Sinjin" Charlie smiled, "been a while."

…

"So, Charlie, how ya been?" Sinjin asked with genuine curiosity.

"Better than ever," he smiled cheekily.

"Yeah, I bet you are," He fell back on to the couch with a thud, "so, howa bout we skip all those bloody sob stories and get to the happy stuff tell, yeah?" He raised his eyebrows, "tell me bout your bird."

Charlie looked down, his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of burgundy, "She's bloody amazing, honestly, she really is."

"And…"

"Where to begin?" He paused in thought, "she's independent, hilarious ... brilliant. Hands down, the strongest, most inspiring woman I've ever known." He reached in his jacket pocket and took out his phone, "here, I think I might have a picture, hold on a moment." He handed the phone to sinjin, a picture of Claire smiling contagiously next to Charlie gracing its screen.

"Wow, mate. I honestly have no idea how you managed that one. She's lovely."

"Yeah, she is." He began to fidget uncomfortably, "I've got something else to tell you though, you'll be surprised, I'm not quite sure how you'll take it, to be honest."

"Eh, nothing surprises me anymore," He leaned back with a smirk.

"This will," Charlie confirmed with a nod. Sinjin shrugged, unconvinced before Charlie continued,

"Y'see, when I first met Claire, she was… um, well, she was eight months pregnant."

Sinjin's face dropped, "you can't be serious. Are ya off your head, man?"

"No, no, not at all. More sane than ever. Believe what you will, but I am now the proud surrogate father of a beautiful baby boy."

"That's it, I've heard it all," Sinjin yelled with emphasis, throwing his hands to the air in surrender.

"My thoughts exactly," Charlie laughed.

"So, baby Pace brother has a baby of 's own. The world's gone mad." He shook his head fervently, "It's amazing what can happen it a matter of weeks." He smiled with slanted eyebrows, still processing the unbelievable information.

Chalie sighed, his voice dropped to seriousness, "they saved me, Sin, they saved my bloody, worthless excuse for a life." Sinjin looked up and gave him a quick smile,

"I'm happy for ya, mate, honestly. I've been feeling pretty rough the last few weeks, but I'm glad to see there's still a bit a hope left for us poor delinquents, aye? Makes things rosier round here, I think."

"There's still hope, Sinjin, it'll turn out alright eventually."

Sinjin noddedin seriousness for a moment before a smirk crossed his face,"helluva world we got 'ere, huh? If you can clean up like that, anything can happen."

…..

The bottle of booze stood half empty atop a thick black Bible. Charlie laughed out loud, "oh, the irony!"

"What're you blabbing about in there?" Sinjin yelled from the kitchen.

"Nothing, you've just got some amusing contradictions is all."

Sinjin swung in from the doorway with a drink in hand, "you still remember our choir days, eh?"

Charlie shook his head in disapproval, "All too well."

"Ah, yes, those were the days."

"Yeah, like sneaking communion wine as we shamelessly quoted the blessed Apostle John."

"Oh, wretched man that I am!" Sinjin raised his glass up it the air with a passionate yell.

"Who shall deliver me from this body of death?" Charlie joined in with matching vigor.

Sinjin laughed as he fell down onto the couch. He rested his head atop his fist in deep thought before his eyes went wide and a proud grin curved across his face.

"Oh, bollocks, what're you thinking about?"

Sinjin widened his smirk, "got an idea for a song."

"Sin, we can't just go 'round writing songs when the bands not even together."

"Ah, come on, mate – for old time's sake."

Charlie shook his head in disbelief, "What exactly would we be writing about, huh, sin?"

"Would you like to hear my vision?"

"Eh, I've got nothing better to do."

Sinjin nodded before raising his voice again, "People 're tired of rock songs about rock. They're tired of listening to winey voices screech about the bleeding 'rock star life.' They can't relate to that. They want somethin meaningful now, see."

"I hear you."

"Yeah, you do."

"So you want to sing about being wretched then?"

He pointed his finger at Charlie, "Spot on."

…..

They were spread out in the midst of the mess - torn, balled up papers, cigarette buds, and a fresh air of inspiration. The acrid smell of smoke brought fog to the dusty air. The thick, golden paged Bible lay in a pile of papers with a sharpie drawn circle around the apostle's words, reminiscent of their youth. Half empty bottles lay abandoned as the sound of an acoustic guitar sings on. "Yes, yes. I like that," Charlie yells over the sound of Sinjin's playing. With pen and notebook in hand, he sings with a hint of vigor, "What a wretched man I am becoming! What a wretched man I have become!"

The music played on just like old times. Something about it was right, he could feel it. But then there was a part of him that felt a disconnect, the part of himself that he left behind while he was here, maybe even the biggest part of him, but he couldn't be sure. All he knew for sure was that making music again was right, somehow it was his home. There's really no other way of describing it. And this time it actually meant something. It wasn't just a bunch of random, shallow words - it meant everything.

…

….

The lights were out. The apartment was black. The silence was painful.

He fell back onto the couch, his mind reeling with conflicting thoughts of confused identity. An hour ago he thought he knew himself. It always happened that way. As he drank and sang with Sinjin, he thought he was Charlie. But now, in the silence, he was someone else. If the silent, inverted version of Charlie was real, he couldn't say. Each one felt real enough, he thought, each one was technically real, right? Claire saw him as island Charlie, so did the rest of them. Liam thought of him as rock star Charlie, as well as Sinjin. Maybe he was just a mixture. That's what people are really – mixtures. Mixtures of all the different lives they've led, people they've pretended to be, and then that small bit of priceless, gleaming truth. 'Truth,' he thought, 'that's what I called it, truth.' Truth was Claire, truth was Aaron, truth was the island, truth was death. But did that make this life fake? Was Driveshaft nothing? Everything he cared about, everything he worked for, nothing? No, he wouldn't believe it. The island was truth, but so is the present, so is the past. Maybe all of it is real, maybe he was never meant to pick one. But then again, maybe he was.

He heard a faint noise and listened closely. Hushed sobs filled his unprepared ears. Quiet sniffles and forced in breaths made his heart break into a million pieces. He lay there, unsure of what to do next, with a concerning load of guilt tugging at his very soul. He shut his eyes tight and prayed that he wasn't the reason for those ungodly sounds.

Hesitant and unsure, he pulled himself up and made his way to the bedroom. He opened the door slowly, gradually exposing the heartbreaking scene. Claire sat on the bed in fetal position with her head hidden behind her knees. The rise and fall of her body emphasized each shaking breath. He didn't think she noticed his presence, so he silently walked to her. Sitting next to her, he put his arm around her carefully. For a few minutes they sat that way, without a movement. Claire couldn't bring herself to look at him; Charlie couldn't bring himself to say a word.

"Sorry," Claire whispered in a raspy tone.

Charlie quickly cut in, "Don't."

She pulled up her head and began to wipe her face with her hands, "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, love, but if you were really as 'fine' as you claim, why in Christ's name would you be crying yourself to sleep?"

She gave a weak attempt of a smile, "Well then, I guess I'm not so fine after all."

"Come on, Claire. What is it? I just want to help."

She turned to face him. Her eyes were mirrored in his as she bit her lip in attempt to gather her thoughts. "I'm scared," she whispered with gentle, biting honesty. His brows furrowed in concern as he put her hands in his own, "Me too."

She looked down, taken aback. Was Charlie just as afraid as she was? Just as guilty? How could she have overlooked his feelings? 'God, I'm selfish,' she thought to herself.

Charlie broke her chain of thought with a deep breath, "I'm scared of … dying. I'm scared of relapsing. I'm scared of myself." He breathed in, "Mostly, I'm scared of failing you again," then with an encouraging tone, "you?"

Slowly she raised her head to him again, "I'm scared of being abandoned. I'm scared of being an awful mother. I'm scared of hurting you again. I'm scared of you hurting yourself." Now it was his turn to look downwards. An eerie emptiness filled his eyes, "I never meant …I never meant to do this to you. I never wanted to…. "

"I know."

His head fell to his hands, "Bloody hell," he sighed, "I hate myself for this – for hurting you just like the rest of them."

"Don't say that! What you did, it was right. It showed just how beautiful a human being you are, really, an inspiration – a legend to the rest of us. But death, Charlie, no matter how heroic the circumstances are, death doesn't come free of consequence. And yes, you hurt me. I really don't know how you're surprised about that."

With his head still in his hands he replied a muffled response, "I didn't think there was anything to miss."

She breathed a sharp breath of air, "And you don't think I hate myself for that?"

He looked at her with quizzical brows before she continued, "You never knew how much I cared about you, how much I needed you … I never told..." her voice failed her as she gave in to the thick clump of emotion burning in her throat, "I had to… I had to live with that … with that regret…"

Her words literally pierced his soul, his emotions getting in the way of a strong façade.

"Claire, I'm here now, okay?"

He couldn't see her in the blackness. He reached blindly to her small, trembling frame, "It's over now, love, it's okay now." Her tears did not show weakness, they proved her strength more than any cold, hard assurance of sanity could. He felt drawn to her in his own desperation. Any more assurance would be hypocrisy, he wasn't worthy of it. Instead, he held her tight, with all the empathy he had left.

An abrupt cry rang, piercing through the peaceful silence.

"I'll get him," Charlie whispered as he got up and walked towards the crib. He picked up the infant and sat back on the bed. Claire smiled through her tears at the sight, reaching out a hand to touch the softly whimpering baby.

A few minutes past before Aaron calmed down and fell back asleep. He laid the baby down between a nearly asleep Claire and himself. He smiled at the rise and fall of Aaron's stomach in between the little gasps for air before carefully lifting himself up. "Charlie," Claire murmured in a faint, barely audible tone. Charlie turned back to her in surprise, "Yeah?"

"Stay here, okay?"

"Okay," he whispered shakily, "of course."

He lay back down tentatively with somewhat unnaturally shy hesitation. Her eyes flickered open to make sure of his presence beside her. They glimmered clearly in the darkness with wet tears still fresh. Guilt seemed to overpower Charlie at the sight of them, he couldn't hide anything from those eyes, he couldn't imagine that anyone in their right mind could either.

"I…I've got something to tell you," Charlie shuddered nervously.

"Hmmm?" Claire sighed.

"Me and sinjin, we wrote some songs. He's pretty excited about em and …"

"… What're you trying to say? You aren't getting the band together, are you?"

"Well, not entirely…"

"- Charlie, I thought we talked about this," Claire sighed in slight frustration.

"I know, I know. Just hear me out, alright?"

"Sure."

"Okay, first off, I don't want to get the band back together, not completely. We just thought that maybe we could do an album, just for the fans. I let them down, y'know. I've been feeling really sorry about it lately. I thought a few really honest, sincere songs might be a good way to apologize."

"Well, that does make a bit more sense."

"So, it doesn't bother you?"

"What bothers me, Charlie, are groupies, dealers, and drugs. But I don't want to take away your passion. That wouldn't be right."

"None a that, promise. You'll keep me grounded though, yeah?"

"Always. And you'll keep me sane?"

"Of course."

She smiled softly in the night's dim obscurity with misty eyes full of promise. She knew it, the three of them would be just fine.

…..

A/N: look at that, I got some unresolved issues outa the way. I should probably note that the Bible verse I used is Romans 7:15-25. I'm not catholic, so I'm slightly unfamiliar with certain things, but I'm pretty sure they use King James, am I right? Also, the song I almost, kinda, sorta referenced is called Wretched Man by Marcus Mumford. It'll make more sense later. The next chapter I'll be doing the interview and hopefully some other interesting things… so, stay tuned, folks.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated note, I wanted to let those of you who are interested know that thanks to Violet Scarlet Lily, a friend of mine and I will be posting a story on this summer. I'm pretty excited about it, actually. So, if you're interested, tell me and I'll let you know when it's up. Thanks!


	14. Chapter 14

No Such Thing as Time

Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I think we've established that I most definitely do not own lost.

a/n: Hi ya darlings, it's been too long. But don't blame me, blame the school system. Man, have things been crazy. My life could make for a very intense story as of late. So hopefully you'll excuse my lateness. (I feel like I say that way too much.) So last chapter, in my little note at the bottom, I said I would be writing original fiction, (that's true) but it didn't let me tell you which website it'll be on. Very annoying. What I meant was that it'll be up sometime this summer on fictionpress. (I'm just gonna hope that worked.)

Violet Scarlet Lily – I hope you feel special! Haha thank you so much! That part was one of my favorites to write. Really fun and strangely emotional. Will do – I just started writing some prompts for the story, and me and my friend have been emailing back and forth, so we're making progress.

Ada23Mon- Thank you, thank you, thank you! Your reviews are so uplifting! I do strive for sweetness

Yankeehater – I know, right? I have some experience with the rock star type, let's just say they're hard to trust. I couldn't deal with it, but then again, the context is a bit different with Charlie. I think you'll start seeing her insecurities though. Thank ya much, as always!

StrawberryxSunlight – I love giving character to the characters, and Sinjin was really fun. I just love intriguing characters with depth like that. (if you haven't already noticed.) The bittersweet nature of their relationship is what really draws me to it. Hollywood tends to make relationships look really cheesy – it's either butterflies and rainbows or totally intense sexual tension with no complexity, story, or anything realistic for that matter. So that heartbreaking quality is really great. I know, I think all of us students are feeling the pressure this time of year, but I'm still writing in my free time.

…

Bright lights flashed around him intensifying the vibrant colors of the room. Sleek and sophisticated, refined and chic. He stood out, dark and uneasy, roughish and defiant. The reporter wore an expensive looking suit and a typical, short haircut. Conventionally handsome, he sat down in the swivel chair with a pile of papers in his hands. Smart, well off, and assertive, Charlie assumed by the look of his posture and confident, almost arrogant persona. He muttered rehearsed lines under his breath as he studied the papers. Without looking up he whispered, "Do you know what to do?" Sweaty, fast-paced, sold out concerts and jumping, screaming fans were nothing compared to the quiet, cool, and calculated air of the news room. Charlie tapped on the desk with his fingers anxiously causing the man to finally look up, "Mr. Pace?" Charlie jolted, "Oh, uh, yeah, I think so. I just answer questions, right?"

"That's it. Is there anything you don't feel comfortable talking about or that you especially want me to address?"

"I'm very open, whatever you'd like to ask, you can ask."

The reporter nodded slightly before returning his eyes back to the paper stack. A red light began to flicker, numbers counting down. "Get ready," he murmured.

The background voices stopped, the light flashed green, words began running down the teleprompter, and Charlie's heart began to beat fast. The reporters face transformed to a cold, serious, and almost ridiculous look. "It doesn't get any more unpredictable then this," he bellowed in a harsh tone full of scandal, "driveshaft's own, Charlie Pace, uncensored and exclusive."

That's when he realized what this was all about. They weren't interested in his story at all. They expected a slur of shocking comments full of insincere, insensitive apathy - the wild child, here for their entertainment. They wanted to shake their hypocritical heads at him, say something about how ridiculous and disgusting people are these days, and walk away feeling good about their lives in comparison. It's a pathetic truth, really. Almost makes you lose faith in humanity for good. And yet, here he was, ready to prove them wrong. He would throw their predictable expectations in their pitiful faces; show them just how much a person can change. They were wrong about him, and now they would know it. He leaned back comfortably in his chair and smirked with a hint of mischief, "thanks for having me, Brian."

"Infamously dubbed, 'the bad boys of Britain,' Driveshaft has a reputation for its erratic, questionable behavior. They seem to be living up to their name lately - the drugs, the brutal fights, and now the latest controversy." He shook his head in disapproval, "you ran out of the tour, Charlie, people are outraged."

"As they should be!" He shouted with emphasis, "They have a right to be disappointed, I disappointed them all. I want to start out by making it completely clear that I do take full responsibility for the cancelation of the tour and I am absolutely, sincerely sorry for any frustration."

"So, is it safe to say that the American tour is dead?"

"I think that's a fair statement. But it's hard to say entirely. I wish I could give everyone a straight answer, I really do. But I don't even have one myself. Everything's up in the air, everything's sort of upside down at this exact moment in time. I hate to say it, but we'll just have to wait and find out."

"So, there's still hope for driveshaft?" He questioned as if it were the most significant question he could ask.

"Yeah, there's hope. There's always hope," Charlie nodded reluctantly.

"What happened? What made you walk off that stage?"

Charlie hesitated for a moment before shrugging slightly, "fact is the rock star life isn't all it's cracked up to be. People look at is as a sort of hyper reality, something big, something thrilling, exhilarating, adrenaline-charged – it is. But it's real too. You become so….well, for lack of a better word – addicted, addicted to the thrill, to the whole bloody show. You're stuck in all that fakeness, none of its real. You get caught up in the fantasy of it all. Don't get me wrong, I love the band, but it's not who I am. I just got lost in it. That's not who I want to be."

"So that was your breaking point, right there on stage in front of everyone?"

"Well, I'd had several breaking points that week, but that was the turning point. These things aren't easy, alright. They're hard as hell to deal with, the drugs, the alcohol, and the most deadly - success. With success comes all these real quiet, subtle things, these issues that you don't see coming, that you can't stop, that make you want more. That's what success is, really. It's seduction at its worst. It makes you love what you hate. It makes you long for what you're afraid of. And then, before you know it, you're drowning."

"Do you think that's what got you in trouble - you weren't ready for that overnight rise to fame? Was all that success what finally brought you to the breaking point?"

"Yeah, there was that. It's called pressure, I think, pressure, pressure, pressure, pressure. There's a lot of that. Maybe that's part of what leads to it, the drowning. You try so hard to get where you are, then you sacrifice yourself just to hold on to it until your entire reality becomes distorted. It's bloody tough, mate. It's hard."

"You and your brother are pretty notorious for being heavy drug users, is that one aspect that affected you decision to leave?"

"Oh, absolutely, as you probably know, I had just been arrested for possession of heroin on a plane that week, I went to jail for the first time. That was defiantly a wakeup call. I mean, I couldn't even go one bloody flight without a fix, it was awful. It was taking over every aspect of my life in a way that I honestly can't even begin to convey. I hated myself, absolutely loathed everything that I had become. And there came a point where I'd literally done all the drugs I had. There were none left, I'd done them all. I'm sitting in that cell and naturally I was like, 'right, well that was interesting. What do I do next? What happens now?' There was nothing else left. Everything was gone, and I couldn't even recognize myself."

The reporter nodded sympathetically, "so are you implying that you're clean now?"

"One hundred percent sober, and proud as hell," Charlie beamed.

"Congratulations," the journalist's face almost looked sincere for the first time, "I think we can all agree that's an incredibly impressive accomplishment. The fans will be happy to hear that."

"Thanks, it took quite a bit to get here. I had to try and kill myself a few times before I could understand that I'm here for a reason. But I'm here now, and I'm happier than I've ever, ever been. I didn't know that was possible."

"I'm glad to hear that, I'm sure the fans will be very happy to know that you're healthy. There were all kinds of rumors about your health following the end of the tour. But what about your brother, Liam, is he really as mad as he seems?"

"Madder. There isn't a word invented that could describe that man's madness".

"He's a … loose cannon?"

"Well, that would be the understatement of the century," he shook his head with a smirk, "he's one of those individuals that the world just cannot seem to understand. And he just can't seem to understand the world, or the way we're expected to act as members of it. He's got a good heart though, he really, really does. He's a beautiful human being, people just don't get him."

"You've had your share of nasty fights before, they're known to be very harsh."

"It's been up and down. It's always difficult to work with members of your family, especially when one of the members of your family happens to be Liam Pace," The reporter laughed enthusiastically as Charlie rested his chin on his knuckles looking up with a familiar mocking gleam. "I've always looked up to him, always wanted his respect, y'know. He was always the poster boy, the lead singer, the one the fans wanted, the one the girls wanted, the one with all the friends. He's always been the cool one. That was hard for me for a long time, always trying to impress him, to be enough for him. He never got that, he never understood it. It didn't matter how many chart topping songs I wrote, or ideas I came up with, I could never gain his respect, and nothing else mattered."

"Most rock stars in your position get big egos; it doesn't seem that way with you at all."

"Liam's the one that wanted the fame, I never did. I wanted to do music for the sake of music. It's always been my passion, ever since I was really young, I didn't want the fame to override that passion. And I do think living in Liam's shadow defiantly contributed to the insecurity. One moment I thought I'd wrote a good song, I thought we were gonna be okay, and then Liam's out a control again, this isn't right, that isn't right.. He is quite petulant and he can be rather childish in a way, and he'd just say, 'we're rock stars, we're paid to be childish.' So it was just a constant insecurity, I had no one to lean on, and he just kept leaning on me. There was no room for an ego."

"You were compromising your success and your health for your brother. Do you think the relationship was toxic?"

"No, it wasn't always bad. We're family, family who works together no less, that's hard. We've had it rough our whole lives. After mum died, our father had practically disowned us, we were on our own. So we both felt the responsibility to be there for each other. We're very close, and deep down we really worry about each other. I think that's why the fights are so bad, y'know, cause we really care."

"All we hear about in the tabloids are the fights, the bitterness, the scandal. It's interesting to hear you talk about your brother in such a good light. Do you think the media portrays your relationship and the band in general much differently than it actually is?"

"That's their job, right?"

The journalist hid a hint of a smile, "Can you give us an example of a happier time between Driveshaft?"

"One moment that stands out the most is when the band was just starting up, we were touring around England the old fashioned way, trying to get some kind of fan base and the we got a flat tire. So we were out in the pouring rain, completely soaked, failing at a weak attempt to fix the tire, yelling nonsense, the whole bit. I quit, I quit it all right then. But then our song starts playing on the radio for the first time, and sin's in the car with a ciggy hanging from his lips and that stupid little cap of his, yelling out the window of that wretched, old van, 'listen! Listen!' And so Li turns around and the sound of rain stops, and I hear my voice blaring from those ancient speakers. I'm thinking, 'we made it, we really did, we made mum proud.' So Liam lifts me up on his shoulder and starts spinning around," he looked back from his nostalgia, "those we're the good ole' days, before all the pain".

"Where are you two now? Was he mad about you leaving."

Charlie laughed, "Hell yeah, he was mad! He'd gone bloody loony! He thought I was some kinda pansy, running off to get help. But that was awhile back now, we've grown up quite a bit since then. Now it's only mild bashing," he laughed, "He's been supportive of me, and I've been supportive of him."

"You say you've been supportive of him. As you've probably heard, there's been lots of rumors on where he is right now, some say he's furious and attempting to sue, others say he's thinking of a solo career, I've heard that he's out going wild again. What's really going on?"

"He's in treatment right now, believe it or not. He's getting himself cleaned up."

The reporter looked shocked, "I don't think any of us were expecting that." He raised a confused eyebrow.

"Yeah, I wasn't either. But crazier things 'ev happened."

"I don't know, the Pace brothers cleaning up, acting civil. I'm not sure it gets any crazier. But what encouraged all of this, I mean there had to be something."

"There is," he smiled with such an air of genuine warmth, you would've almost felt bad to intrude on the subtle happiness of it, "her name is Claire."

The reporter smiled, this was pure gold, "a girl?"

"I know, I know," He turned magenta as he stared at the floor, "who would've thought?"

"A real rock n' roll romance. Can you tell us anything about her?"

He laughed, "I'm not sure what I'd say. Ya know how when something means so much to you, it's hard to talk about?"

"I can respect that, but you're a songwriter, you do have a way with words."

"Charlie shook his head, "Claire is truth, really. That's the only way I can think to describe her. There's something so sincere, so genuine about her, it's hard to explain," he gave a knowing, secret sort of smile before continuing, "It's just this love, this spectacular, consciousness altering love. It's been hard for both of us, it's been really, really hard, but it's worth every second. She's this beautiful vision of hope when things get so completely hopeless." The reporter nodded as Charlie smiled cheekily, "that was my profound statement for the day."

"That's why you became a songwriter, because you say things like that," he pointed at him with a knowing sneer.

Charlie picked up his glass and swirled it around, "No, I became a songwriter because I'm not good at anything else," he sighed, "and it pays well."

The reporter laughed, "So, it happened just like that, you meet a girl, and then stop the drugs?"

"Well, that would be the black and white version of the story, yes."

"There's more then?" The reporter's forehead crinkled, his face showing interest.

"Yeah, the kids at home might wanna sit down for this one," he smirked. "Fact is, it wasn't Claire alone who helped me get to where I am. A god bit of credit goes to my son, Aaron."

The reporter jolted back a bit, now completely baffled. "Wait, so let me get this clear, you have a son?"

"Not in a biological sense, but in every other way - yes. He's Claire's, and he means absolutely everything to me."

The reporter sat stunned, "Wow, uh, so you like being a father then?"

"Best experience of my life, and believe me, I've had plenty of experience. I remember when I first held him and I finally knew what I had been waiting so long for. It's just this absolutely indescribable, totally unconditional, perfect love like you wouldn't believe. There's something so … so bleeding genuine about it - so selfless. Aaron, he can't judge me, he can't stop loving me, and he won't leave me. He's just so new, so innocent…"

"What a story."

"And you hardly know any know any of it," Charlie laughed to himself, 'if only they knew,' he thought.

"Well, I assume all of this will influence your music in the future?"

"Definitely, it already has."

"So you admit that music is in your future?"

"Music has always been very close to my heart, my whole life. That's all I've wanted, really – to play music, I still want to play music, even if it's to a month year old sleeping baby, I'll always sing."

The newsman gave a satisfied nod, "Thank you, Mr. Pace, this has to be one of the most surprising interviews we've had yet."

"Well, I'm honored."

…..

a/n: next week I'll be taking a short break from the usual Charlie, Claire, Liam, Sinjin, and Aaron, and writing some Jack, Kate, David, Shannon, Boone, and maybe some others. Then I'll be on to Patrick and Karen and whoever else ya'll suggest.

Have a fantastic day, you're really cool!


	15. Chapter 15

No Such Thing as Time

Chapter 15!

Disclaimer: I don't own David, but I sure had to make up a whole lot.

A/N: LillithxLuna, Violet Scarlet Lilly, yankeehater, beccalost, and StrawberryxSunlight - oh my goodness, I have decided to get back on track! Can you believe it? I feel bad for being so mean to y'all, but your encouragement has meant a lot and inspired me to write this chapter up. Life hasn't been treating me kind as of late, so the inspiration was lacking. But I shall not let you lovely people down. (wow, I sound like this is actually important or something.. ha!) Anyways, it may be a bit longer between chapters again, but I'll most certainly keep it up. Thanks darlings! Lots o' love!

…

David's backpack dropped with a painful thud as it hit the concrete ground. Cold, dull, and chilling - the room around him was like a mirror image of his own dreary thoughts. A repetitive sandwich and a lonely, empty table surrounded by the terror of enraged, hormonal outbursts of the deadly insecure. The noise of petty conversations and brutal backstabbing echoed around his head in a sort of faraway sense. Like an outsider looking in to a foreign screen, he watched silently. From the little bit of information that had been told to him, he was nothing but the product of one lonely universe, which seemed less important than another one. Apparently he could never reach this other place that his parents spoke of, mostly because he didn't exist in it. In that "better" place, his parents had other significant others, and didn't seem to care even a little bit that he didn't exist at all. He felt as if his family was living a life separate from his own, like he couldn't reach them anymore; he couldn't grasp the level in which they lived. The confusion of the situation wasn't lacking either.

The word lonely can only convey so much, it was beyond that - a strange, eerie thing, really. Like he was of some sort of mind space and could never come back down to the petty scandals that went on around him. Maybe that's why he didn't even care when some of the football players slurred scarring vulgarity at his hunched, faded figure. It didn't matter when that gorgeous girl in history rolled her eyes with a poison smirk when she caught him starring at her long, dark curls. It didn't hurt when the math test was handed back to him with red ink dripping from its erased and scribbled pages. It didn't even hurt when he sat there, alone as usual. It didn't hurt, none of it. All of the trifling scandal was absolutely nothing to the war that his mind had been experiencing. It annoyed him to death to see all these ridiculous, insecure girls and pompous, stupid boys break their necks to impress each other with fake actions and artificial lives.

Fake – all of it.

As he stared at his youthful appearance in the bathroom's broken, dusty mirror, he gave up. In the dim lighting which deceptively accented every flaw on his boyish face, he glared. The smudged handprints blurred his image as the broken faucet dripped eerily, his eyes filled with angry tears.

He figured there was no explanation from his family's sudden diversion and dedication to a universe where he didn't belong. There was no explanation for the strange fugitive woman living in his home. She thought he didn't know who she was, that he was ignorant; it was almost laughable, ridiculous. He obviously looked her up as soon as she decided to mysteriously invade his life. He knew exactly who she was – a murderer. A woman who was reckless, malicious, and evil; a woman who his father loved enough to put his own son in danger.

To David, it was betrayal.

The bell rang with a stinging pang to his head, shattering his thoughts. He watched as the dirty streets moved beneath the wheels of the bus where he sat in seclusion. He walked home alone, opening the door without a noise, and letting the heavy burden of a backpack fall to ground. He opened the fridge door to the now familiar sound of Patsy Cline playing in the distance. Kate was here, of course.

As he pulled out a soda he heard Kate's voice and assumed she was on the phone, "I love when all of us get together, it almost feels like the good ole' days." He sighed; they'd all be here tonight to watch that interview. At least that meant the guy from driveshaft was coming. He always claimed to have been a fan of driveshaft even before it got big, not to mention that he'd always admired the bass player the most. He had a couple old "Oil Change" songs on his iPod that he listened to every once and awhile too. At least he could talk music with Charlie; that was something he could relate to. Of course that only happened on the improbable moment when he wasn't distracted with the baby. And was seriously obsessed with that kid.

He heard Kate's footsteps approaching before she swung into the doorway with a forced smile, "Are you gonna watch the interview tonight?"

"I guess," he replied, emotionless, before walking to his room and closing it behind him as routine. His room was a mess - posters and pictures gracing the walls, a pile of clothes on the floor, and a pretty little keyboard against the wall. He gently pressed down on the cold keys, a beautifully sad tune speaking to his tired mind.

…

Kate listened silently to the music played vaguely behind the closed door. With a hopeless sigh, she fell down into the couch as usual. What do say to a teenager when everything they knew had changed and their world had fallen apart?

A knock at the door broke her musings; she made her way to door, opening it to Charlie, Claire, and Aaron smiling in the doorway. "Well, you're here early!" she cried, finally feeling some relief from her worry.

Claire laughed, "Yeah, we thought you could use the company," She looked down at Aaron on her hip, "didn't we, sweetie?"

"Mm hmm," Charlie added as he strolled through the doorway, walking strait to the brilliant black, shiny Steinway in the corner, "you'd think after years of touring I could afford one of these," he laughed as he pressed down a lovely c cord, "you'd think that, yeah, but you'd be wrong."

Kate laughed, "Why don't you play us something then, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know, would David mind?"

"I'm sure he'd be honored."

"Well, in that case….." He smirked as he began to play a sweet little tune from his youth.

Claire shook her head at him as she handed Aaron over to Kate who embraced him with open arms, "Hey there, goober!" She kissed his temple and held him tight. Claire smiled at them, "Is there anything we can do? Cook, clean ..?"

"I think Jack's gonna stop and get something on the way home," She sighed, "I'm not in the mood."

"Kate," Clare whispered with a look of genuine concern, "is something wrong?"

Kate shrugged her shoulders, "David hates me."

"He doesn't hate you" She shook her head, "he's just an angsty teenager whose life has changed quite drastically. He's probably just taking it out on you, don't take it personally."

"You think?"

"No, I know." She laughed, "I was one."

"God, I hope it's a phase! I feel like I'm invading his life or something, it's terrible."

"It's not just you, it's all of this. I can't even imagine the stress of it on him." She reached out and stroked Aaron's fine hair, "I get scared for Aaron a lot too, what if once he finds out about all his history, he hates me. What if he hates me for leaving him?"

Kate nodded somberly, "and that's why we take it a day at a time."

…..

The door abruptly opened, as Jack walked in, throwing the keys on the counter with a few paper bags, "hey!" He yelled into the family room.

Kate smiled, "Did you get anything for tonight?"

"Just the essentials; chips, soda and all that." He ripped open a bag of chips and poured it into a big bowl before pulling the pile of plastic cups out of their container. The rest followed him to the kitchen to help out, filling coolers with ice and presenting appetizers on pretty plates.

Charlie held Aaron above his head as the baby giggled. "I love you so much, it hurts me…" Charlie hummed along to little CD player on the counter, "and there's nothing I can dooooo," He kissed the baby's round cheeks before continuing in his best attempt at a southern drawl, "I want to hold you, my dear, forever and ever…"

"Maybe you should make a country album," Jack laughed sarcastically. Charlie rolled his eyes mockingly before matching Jack's sardonic tone, "Maybe I will."

"Yeah, I'd buy that," Kate laughed as she closed the fridge.

"I think I'll stick to good ole' rock n' roll," Charlie replied, "but thank you kindly for the interest."

….

David sat on the balcony with a pile of homework papers beside him; he listened intently as each person came through the door. With a smile and a hug, Shannon and Sayid came in together followed by Boone, Hurley and Libby, then Sun and Jin, and finally his mom and Sawyer. They created quite a bit of noise inside - if the situation was awkward David certainly couldn't tell. From the looks of it they were content; just content to be with each other. By eight o' clock David watched from the corner of his eye as they retreated to the television. They intently watched as the interview began, consistently making side comments about every word.

"I didn't care too much for the way he asked that," Charlie retorted bluntly, "he needed a taste of his own poison." The crowd laughed as they watched Charlie snap at the interviewer with good ole' British wit. All together in the family room, it was contenting, comforting. They smiled at his antics as they continued to comment throughout. Hurley especially seemed enthusiastic about it, mocking Charlie's facial expressions and overly dramatic gestures. Kate was looking particularly sympathetic during the serious parts, Libby, of course, shed a few tears, Claire lay on Charlie's chest, listening intently to every word as Aaron lay in his crib right below.

Yes, there would always be little insecurities, like the way sawyer called Kate by her actual name now, or the way Juliet and Jack discussed family decisions. It was quite dysfunctional to put it lightly. But they still tried to make sense of it. With the sound of laughter and the sniffling before tears, they seemed to be doing a pretty impressive job. As Charlie began to talk about Claire on the television the room seemed to instantly implode into one loud "awww" noise, which turned Charlie's cheeks bright red with a smile he just couldn't shake.

…..

David now watched the interview from the little TV in his room. As it ended he heard the mocking clapping from the other room before in erupted into laughter and a barricade of questions and comments. The general joy of the others restored his vicious loneliness. He quietly opened his window before carefully climbing out of it. He walked around the apartment, sitting silently onto the front steps. Fresh air and a night sky always did a guy good, after all. He sat in silence and welcome solitude as he attempted to collect his thoughts. But the silence was quickly interrupted.

A harsh tone a voice above him whispered, "son of a bitch" before slamming the door. His heavy footfalls striding down, the thud of boots against pavement, a few stomps down the stairs, and the flame of a cigarette before a puff of warm smoke all signified Sawyer's arrival. "Your daddy better learn how to deal with a little smoke every once in a while," he pulled the cigarette to his lips aggressively, "kickin' me out? Who the hell does he think he is?"

"A doctor," David retorted with biting apathy, still mad at Sawyer and his interruption.

"Yeah, well …" He rolled his eyes mockingly as he brought the cigarette to his lips as a way of avoiding the comment. With a breath of smoke he sat down near David, "so, what're you doin' out here anyway?"

Without looking up he responded, "Thinking."

"Couldn't take the noise?"

"I don't know, I guess."

Sawyer smirked, youth always had a funny way of messing with somebody, when a kid's the most messed up inside, they're always the most apathetic about it. It could've just been insecurity, he thought, but it must've been more. They thought they deserved all that angst and pain, mostly because that's exactly what they had been taught. After all, it's just like Jacko's old man used to say, 'see, kids are like dogs, you knock em around enough, they'll think they did something to deserve it.' It came as no surprise that the kid thought of himself as a pathetic looser. He was lonely, that was it., and he thought it was justified. Sawyer could understand – he was that kid, and maybe he still was a little bit. With a far off look he began to quote in a raspy whispered tone,

"A guy goes nuts if ain't got nobody. Don't make no difference who the guy is, long's he's with you. I tell ya, I tell ya a guy get's too lonely an' he gets sick."

David struck him a quizzical look. Sawyer sighed, "Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men."

"Oh," David replied still intently staring at the pavement below him.

Sawyer raised his eyebrows, "You're lonely, aren't you? Like ole' Crooks said, you think you got nobody, huh?"

David rolled his eyes, "it's so clichéd, but it's just … nobody cares about me, I don't have anybody anymore."

"Ya know, kid, he drawled as he leaned back against the stairwell, "when I was your age I didn't have no family. I was passed around from one family to another - the trouble child, the one nobody wanted anything to do with, the one who got in the way of everybody's business … the outsider."

Still without a word, David looked up at him for the first time.

Sawyer watched as his dejected features began to melt away, "I never got close to nobody, kept to myself… "Sawyer smirked, "But you ain't that way, are ya?"

David looked down again, silent, defeated. Maybe the hick wasn't really all that bad, not that he'd ever say that aloud or anything.

"Well, if you are, in fact, feelin' lonely, there's a whole room upstairs filled with people who are ready to greet you with open arms, if you'd just let em."

"You don't get it," David shook his head, "you're all crazy!"

Sawyer laughed despite himself, "Is that so?"

"Uh, yeah."

Sawyer continued to laugh, "do go on," he mocked.

"My dad's brainwashed by a murderer, my mom's in love with a southern pervert, both of them have decided that they belong to a magical land where I don't exist and now spend all their time with heroin addicts, valley girls, billionaires, and terrorists instead of me," he replied bluntly.

"Whoa there, sassafras, give us a chance!" Sawyer yelled mockingly, "Sure, we're dysfunctional. Hell, we're psychotic. But we got something worth living for. And we ain't lonely anymore."

David looked somewhat skeptical as he rolled his shoulders in defeat before sawyer hit him hard in the back, "wipe those tears outa your eyes, sweetheart!" he cried before standing up, "how bout you stop your whining and come on and join us."

David gave a hint of a slight smile as he stood up next to Sawyer, "I'll come with you, but no promises on the happy part."

Sawyer held up his hands in surrender, "okay, okay, all I ask is for a little effort. I mean, I hate to break it to ya, kid, but you're one of us whether you like it or not.

You're part of the family now."

The last bit gave him goose bumps, was he really a part of something after all?

'Maybe Sawyer was right', David thought as he walked up the apartment steps, 'he would always be an outsider in some ways, and that was completely okay - some people are, some people always will be. But that doesn't mean he couldn't at least attempt to be a part of something - to feel love; to love.

They walked inside to see Charlie sitting on the couch with his old, red guitar on his lap, singing of joy – singing of hope. The others sat around swaying to the music as they whispered nonsense to each other, laughed, and sang along. For the first time in a long time David felt something like warmth.

Yes, they're all crazy, yes, they don't make one bit of sense, but it was like sawyer said, they weren't alone, and that - that closeness itself, is worth everything.'

Maybe he would never understand his parents, maybe he would never understand his family, maybe he would never even understand the world at all. At fifteen, a time when you honestly believe you know e v e r y t h I n g, realizing that in reality you don't, can't, and never will understand practically a n y t h i n g is a hard lesson.

When it comes it hits you like a ton of bricks, shattering your pretty, little worldview till it's nothing but a pile of puzzle pieces, signifying each bit of knowledge you once thought you understood. It's when you put them back together, rearranging the picture in a new and altered way, that you decide what is real and what is not, and most notably, you realize that your picture of the world will never, ever be complete, but instead broken, jaded, faded, and foggy. This was the time for David to pick up the pieces, to finally realize that most things in life you just can't understand, but that the one thing he could wrap his brain around was the love of his dysfunctional, confusing, and generally insane family.

…..

A/N: So, it was fun writing a teenager, ya know, since I am one. Relatable? Yes.

Next chapter I'll finally be giving Karen a voice (Yay!) and I'll tie in some Boone. Hmm odd combination you say? Yes, but I'll make it work. And of course our lovely Charlie and Claire and Aaron bunch will always be highly involved because I love them way too much. Bye! Thanks again!


	16. Chapter 16

No Such Thing as Time

Chapter 16

A/N: hello people. First off, I heard from StrawberryxSunlight that the website isn't letting her review, which is really weird. So, tell me if that's the case, cause I'd really like to know why it's doing that… So very weird. I would do personal responses, but I'm really confused with which ones are new and which ones are old and stuff… On another note, my life has gone absolutely mad since I've last wrote and it's kinda beyond crazy. Needless to say, I haven't been at my most motivated and all that. But here we are again, I made time somehow. I did it just for you lovely people. Mm hmm. So this chapter is basically all Liam and Karen, I really wanted to just focus on them for this one, next chapter I'll have the rest of the people I promised. I know, I'm terrible about keeping my word, it's just hard to do that when you just write as you go, ya know?

On another random note, did any of y'all see dom's new twitter? I heard about it on tumblr, actually. (anybody have a tumblr? Eh? Eh?) Anyways, so now I'm following him, which is super cool. And I'm really pumped about his new nature show. Just saying.

….. Let's move on, shall we?

….

She could feel his pain deep inside her bones, his cold, empty longing reverberating in her soul - nagging, harassing, haunting.

It was fear - deep, hard fear - it overwhelmed her hope and filed her lungs with chocked, cracked breath.

It was 2 am and the pain had become real again.

The invisible thread of their marriage, the one that held them together in some symbolic way, had been ripped, torn, and damaged so many times it could hardly hold their heavy hearts anymore. She felt its desperate attempt to hold on, as the weight sustained its pull. It was worse for her. She felt it more than he did. Maybe because she saw the struggle through crystal eyes, clear and vast, while his were poisoned, delusional, and diseased. They saw the world through an artificial lens, like something distant and unreachable. She was but a shadow to him – a shadow of long ago, faraway; too far for him to love, too hard for him to love. And she could hardly blame him, how can you love an illusion, an echo; a delusion? But to her he was nothing but lost. He was nothing but absent.

And really, she could blame him; she did blame him. He ruined her entire life. As cliché as it may be, her hopes were gone, as were her aspirations. She wasn't dirt! She was a human being, for God's sake, and he abandoned her! He abandoned his daughter, his wife, his family.

And for what?

For what?

God only knows where he could be at 2: am - who he could be with, what he was doing.

Every time she put up with it, every time she let it go, gave him a new start. But she was tired of forgiveness. She was tired of his excuses, his lies, his apologies – they didn't mean anything, anyways. He'd just leave again, and again, and again. And she'd end up sitting here on their bed, crying into the pillow and desperately praying to be anywhere but here.

She would've left a long time ago, if it weren't for their beautiful daughter who lay peacefully in her room, completely unaware.

She often wondered which would be worse - to have no father at all, or to have a father like him.

She also wondered if it was only her daughter that kept her from leaving, she wondered if deep down it was really a selfish desire. She knew she wasn't afraid of being alone, after all, she already was; it wasn't fear at all. She wondered if she still loved him, still secretly hoped, deep down, that one day he would change, that she would change him, and they would be a family. But then she would always curse herself. After all, it wasn't her damn job to save him! It wasn't her job to save anybody!

He was the only one that could save himself. It isn't called "self" destruction if somebody else could just go on and save you from it. It's called that, because you have to want to get better, you have to want it more than anything at all. And that's how you save yourself – through passion, through longing, and through lots and lots of hope.

If he wanted to party all hours of the night until coming home drunk, high, and sick as hell, he could, and she couldn't do a thing about it because, to be frank, it wouldn't make a difference to him. It wasn't that he didn't love her. He did in a way. But he just couldn't see things the same way most people can. It's a strange disease – addiction - a disease that not only destroys the body, but also takes the soul. As the body disintegrates, the heart withers. Your humanity begins to gradually fade. As reason diminishes, control falls away, once control is gone, so is your happiness, then the sadness turns numb, then everything turns numb, and then all your left with is this animalistic longing for something that you absolutely despise. This yearning, this hunger, this confliction it's all you have left. It's all you can feel, it's the only control you can still manage.

There is no love. Not really, not completely, certainly not in the way it was intended. She was still capable of so much love, but all she could do was watch as he fell. Honesty, it's a hard thing to explain. To watch the one you love come home with eyes vacant and black, posture sunken and frail, cut and bruised, and empty - so deeply empty, it was terrible. It was scary. Imagine the body of someone you loved lacking their soul. Would you still love them? Would they still be the same person? Could they love you? No. No they couldn't. And that's exactly how she felt.

The man who walked in to the doorway at three o clock in the morning with sunken eyes was not Liam. It was but a shadow of him, a distant memory of a man. His sharp bones stuck out underneath his thin skin, his clothes hung off him, his hair was dangling lifeless on his pale forehead, the only light coming from his was that of a dirty cigarette which hung from his chapped lips. Karen wiped her tears with her sleeve and lay her head down on the pillow, pretending to be asleep. She listened as his heavy, uneven footsteps entered the bedroom. He began to pull a few shirts of his off their hangers and throw them to the ground. He then proceeded to carelessly grab pants out of drawers until he finally got on his knees and threw all the clothing into a suitcase inside the closet. He walked over towards the bed and picked up a picture frame on the table beside it. The picture was of Meagan, smiling and laughing with the sweetest wide eyes. He stood still for the first time since coming in as he looked at it. The stare may have seemed emotionless, but there was depth in it. There was something longing, something desperate, something bittersweet in that stare. He gently put it in the pocket of his suitcase. He then got in bed, laying upright, arms crossed behind his neck, he looked to the ceiling somberly. Karen could smell the smoke and sweat and hints of cologne, it was rough and raw and everything about him made her want to hold him and tell him it would all be okay in the end. Just the feeling of his presence broke her heart. She could feel the pain in her chest as she heard him breath beside her. Why did she love this man? She wished that she didn't, she wished she had never met him, she wished she had never fallen in love with a man she subconsciously knew was falling beyond her reach.

As soon as the morning light dripped through between the blinds, her eyes opened, she looked to her side to see that Liam was already out of bed. She got up quickly and walked to Meagan's room to see Liam holding his child with reverence and a small yet heavy pang of fear. It was a picture of innocence in the hands of corruption. Pure hope in shaking bruised arms. Liam looked at Karen in the door way, "she just woke up. I thought I'd come and get her for you." She nodded wordlessly; she would give him a hard time later, not as he held Meagan so peacefully. The baby lifted her little hand to his face, touching his cheeks in wonder. He smiled lightly, "It terrifies me," he whispered. Karen came in and sat beside them, "what?"

"To think of Meagan turning in to something like me. The innocence won't last … it won't. I can't stand the thought of her becoming the pathetic, miserable joke of a human being that I am. It absolutely terrifies me."

"Yeah?" Karen asked full of bitterness, "me too."

He looked away, eyes blank. Hers resembled something of regret, anger, but mostly sadness.

"I'm sorry, bird. I really am."

"Sure, and if you're so very sorry than why do you continue to come home at three o' clock in the bloody morning, huh?"

"I told you, we had a gig."

"Gigs don't take that long, Liam."

"Okay, okay, so the boys and I may have stayed a bit late, but nothing happened."

"Don't pretend, Li. I'm not stupid. Do you really believe that I sit here in this apartment at all hours of the bleeding night without worrying? Do you really believe that I haven't notice how frail you've gotten or seen all those bruises on your arms? What about the smell of alcohol you're drenched in? Huh? The way you can't focus? Your eyes are so empty; so lifeless." Her words were bitter as she began to choke on them, "I'm not stupid…."

Liam rolled his eyes, angry now, he hissed, "I don't have time for this! I've got a hundred sodding things to worry about, okay? I can't deal with this too."

"Deal with this?" she screamed in a sarcastic, biting tone, "What the hell does_ this mean? _Does our marriage mean nothing to you? What about your family, hmm? Or does that not matter anymore? All that matters anymore are your bloody drugs, right?"

"Oh, shut it!" He raised his voice even louder, "You know it matters to me, Karen. You're over exaggerating!"

"Over exaggerating? Over exaggerating? Really, Liam? Cause personally the idea of finding you dead in an alleyway isn't appealing in the least, no matter how much I want to hate you."

"Oh, don't pretend like you care!"

"But I do!"

"Then why do you treat me like I'm nothing but rubbish, eh? Do you honestly believe that'll help any?"

"Well, what do you want me to do then? Because there is no way in hell I'm gonna smile through this."

"I don't know, Karen, okay? I just don't know anymore."

"How about caring about your family for once? Or are your stupid, bloody drugs your family now?"

Liam's eyes were flaming red at this point, his hands shaking with anger, "I've got a plane to catch!" He yelled as he forcefully handed the baby over to Karen. In the process, the unthinkable happened – he dropped Meagan. She almost fell to the ground before Karen grabbed her as fast as she could. Liam stood still; shock overwhelming him.

Karen comforted the baby before putting her back in her crib. Liam still could only stand still, wordlessly. Karen walked to him with eyes cold and distant; if you looked close enough you could see the glistening tears welling up inside them. She stood before him and whispered with a rough tone, "Get out."

"Karen…." He pleaded.

"No," she whispered, "you're filthy." A tear finally made way down her face, her voice fell to a whisper, "You're dangerous. I can't… I can't have you around my daughter."

"Karen…" He pleaded, eyes of longing, of hopelessness, he said her name again one last time as he shook his head, confused, disordered. He grabbed his suitcase, and walked out the door.

After one last yearning look, he was gone.

She fell to the ground, head in her hands, and wept.

She was alone.

Liam walked into the airport bathroom, he checked to make sure no one was there before falling to his knees in the stall. As if it was nothing but habitual, he pulled a little, black film container out of his jacket pocket and opened the lid. Shaking the container, the little bag of substance fell into his palm. Glazed in tears, his vacant eyes blinked rapidly as he snorted the substance from his hand. It became hazy now, numb and obscure. He would be okay, at least for the next few hours. At least he wouldn't feel the pain, which Karen would have to endure. He walked out of the bathroom with misty eyes, a lopsided limp, and a jaded smile.

He found Charlie, Patrick, and Sinjin outside near the baggage claim, Charlie looking clearly upset, "Liam bloody Pace, where've ya been, ya git? I've called that stupid phone of yours at least fifteen times in the last hour!"

"It's true," Added Sinjin with a laugh, "he's gone mad."

"Well, I'm here aren't I?" Liam growled as he carelessly threw his suitcase on the baggage claim. Charlie's eyebrows curved in confusion, he looked at Patrick who only shrugged his shoulders.

….

It was early afternoon, hot and breezy. The windows of the apartment were open wide, welcoming the sunlight in. Meagan was napping peacefully in her crib, still innocent, unaware. Karen sat at the kitchen table making notes in the phonebook, hoping to find a new, higher paying job. She was almost at the point of another break down.

She had chosen the daring life, one free of any serious education, free of any sort of expectation, just freedom and adventure - the life of a rock star's girlfriend. And that was lovely; it really was. That is, until Meagan arrived and everything changed very quickly. All the sudden she was married, she was a mother, she had expectations, she had duty, she had responsibility. And with Liam gone, all of this fell atop her small shoulders. No one would hire someone like her – someone who had hardly even passed high school, only worked in a drive through and a shopping mall. It was hopeless in a world like this one, but there was no room for failing, not when you're responsible for the wellbeing of a child. So she continued to flip through the pages in mostly resentment and a small bit of determination.

It was then that the phone rang, loud and shrill. She panicked, she needed Meagan to sleep. She needed a few hours to herself, just a few. She ran to the phone and attempted to catch her breath before giving a weak "hello" to the speaker.

"Karen?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Karen, hey. It's Charlie."

Her heart stopped. All she could think of was Liam. What if he was hurt? What if something happened to him? Her voice became worried, "What happened? Is he okay?" her voice became slightly frantic as if expecting the worst.

"Yeah, yeah, Liam's fine. That's why I was calling, actually. He's in rehab."

"What? Are you serious?" She was absolutely shocked beyond belief. Still critical, she asked, "How in the world did you manage that?"

"Well, it wasn't easy, but he's completely committed. I just got out myself, see, so I sorta convinced him that it'd be a good idea."

"I just can't believe it. It doesn't sound like him at all."

"No, it does. You've just never heard what Liam really sounds like. Deep down he's got a good side, and he's bloody fighting for it Karen. He's doing it for you - for you and Meagan. You've got to believe me."

"I don't know, Charlie …"

"Please, Karen, give him a chance."

"I have to think about Meagan, I have to be an example for her. I have to think about myself."

"But you don't understand, if you knew fully you'd rethink it."

She wasn't sure what to say anymore, her mind was racing. The anger was back, all the emotion she thought was behind her still felt raw in her mind. "I'm sure you mean well, Charlie, I really do, but I don't think you understand. Not everyone gets a second chance."

"Only because you're not willing to give it."

Her heart broke. Now she was really angry. "I've given him too many chances, alright. But then he dropped Meagan." Her voice broke as she took in a sharp breath, "He dropped her…."

There was a long pause before she continued in a biting tone, "That's when I realized that he cared more about his filthy drugs than his own daughter."

"Karen please … let me explain."

"I can't."

She hung up and fell down to the couch, letting out a long sigh, her thoughts raced.

She thought she had accepted her new life. She thought that she was okay with being alone. She was in control – independent.

But now she was questioning everything.

She never, ever wanted to be one of those stupid girls who go right back to the ones who've hurt them out of insecurity and ignorance. She had respect for herself; she wanted the best for her daughter. But part of her still felt sympathy for Liam. He was actually doing something with his life now, he was really changing, and he had decided to do it himself. It was for her. It was for Meagan. But how many chances can you give a person? How many do they deserve? It's hard to know for sure.

As it always is, it was a battle between head and heart. Her heart felt forgiveness, redemption, love. Her head only argued for rationality, safety, for stability. You could argue the two all day long, but really, is there an answer? Surely not only one, she thought. Nothing was clear – there was no right answer.

…..

A/N: Wow, I wrote all that in study hall, that was record fast for me. Hmmm

Next chapter is gonna be a little more chill, if you will. It'll have more characters and just more of a fluffy sort of thing, and then it'll get all crazy again, yeah!


	17. Chapter 17

No Such Thing as Time

Chapter 17

A/N: Since the last time I posted, I have taken final exams, gone on a fab holiday, and moved across the country. Obviously, it's been awhile. I can't blame ya'll if you've moved on and all that, but I'm still continuing the story. I just had a long (like two month) hiatus, I gueuss…. Things have been absolute madness. This chapter basically sucks, but I wrote it out of guilt. I guess it's more of a Segway of what I've actually been planning on writing, if that makes sense?

BeccaLost – Thanks, lovely!

LillithxLuna- That is weird! You must have a little bit of Desmond type qualities in there.

Emma –Thank you, thank you, thank you! In defense of my spelling, I'm actually an insomniac (sadly) so I write this in the early hours of the morning when I'm a bit out of my head. I'm usually much, much better at spelling and grammar…. Hahah But on the other hand, I do find that I'm more creative when I'm tired out of my mind for some strange reason. I shall continue!

…

Sitting on the countertop with her messy blonde curls atop her head and a cup of coffee at her side, Claire's feet dangled down in wool socks. The sun stained the room around her with early, faded, morning light as the sound of utter silence filled the messy space. The short periods of time in the early morning when both Charlie and Aaron were asleep had become her only few moments of peace. You might have thought that the silence was welcome, but she could hardly stand it. Some mornings she couldn't even bring herself to drown out the cold vacancy. The lonely mornings, those were the mornings her thoughts drifted to the painful memories of lonely island life. Being alone was a hard thing for her to handle, she supposed it always would be - after all, being alone in the middle of a godforsaken landform out of a something worse than a big budget horror film does things to the brain, especially one which had previously been characterized by some lovely kind of endearing sweetness and maybe even naivety. It had been a long time since then and a whole lot had changed, but the effects of the events continued to harass even now.

Anxiety ensued.

It was an unstoppable force of the mind, a fear from the mental which is so horrific and perplexingly gigantic that it must come forth to the physical as well. From the mind it begins to make her shiver and shake and sweat. Claire had often experienced the feeling yet it never became endurable. She on to the counter top tightly, hoping to calm the nerves which she had no control over. Her heart was beating fast, so fast she almost thought she could hear its constant rhythm. She began to feel a bit nauseous. Finally, she couldn't take the fear any longer and rushed to the bedroom. She walked quickly to the bed where Charlie slept peacefully.

"Charlie, please, please wake up, "She leaned over top of him, touching him lightly, "please, Charlie"

The urgency in her voice woke him up right away; he sat up quickly with dazed, sleepy eyes and messy hair, "Is something wrong, what happened?"

"Nothing," she continued to breath heavily, "I just… I'm scared and I need you to be awake for me. I'm so, so sorry-"

"Don't be," he interrupted, "it's perfectly fine Claire, I'm right here, alright? Although I can't say I'm much of a help, I'm still here."

"Thank you," she took a deep breath, it just….got bad…. I feel so week…"

"Claire," Charlie said with firm assurance, "You are the strongest woman in the whole wide world, you know that. You have dealt with more atrocity than almost anyone. Don't make me list the reasons, okay? You have a right to get anxious. You are the strongest, Claire, don't forget it."

She nodded, she knew she was strong, she was resilient, and she was independent. He was right. But it didn't change the fact that the feeling of hopelessness taunted her whenever she was alone. As she sat on the bed in thought she felt Charlie's arms around her full of the warmth of hope and that strangely familiar smell of saltwater that she always associated with it. She held him back and her shaking began to subside. She wiped her damp face and held him tighter. He smiled with satisfaction at the sound of her quiet, breathy giggles as he barely kissed her cheek.

After a moment Charlie got up and tussled his clearly confused morning hair, "I'm going to make us some tea," he said with a nod and a smirk before walking to the kitchen. She followed shortly after,

"I can't believe Aaron's still asleep?" She said in unbelief.

"Yeah, weird, right? I guess the little man was all tuckered out. We did have a quite rousing game of peekaboo last night…"

Claire laughed as she jumped down from the counter, bringing her tea cup down with her as they shared the morning sunlight. Claire rested her elbows on the counter with her head leaned on her hands. She seemed tired and Charlie looked at her with some degree of concern, "what's the matter, love?" His security was rather fragile and was really only balanced according to Claire's emotions. When she wasn't happy he would blame it on himself before she could even assure him that she was alright. She shook her head, "what if I'm always this scared of being alone? It isn't healthy, Charlie."

"Maybe not, but it's certainly understandable. Honestly, it'll probably take a while, Claire. But you don't have to worry, cause you have a lot of people here for you one hundred percent."

Claire continued to look a bit distanced, "What do you think will become of us?" She questioned in complete seriousness.

"Hmmm well, maybe we'll live in the middle of nowhere in a cute, little cottage with flowerboxes and colorful shutters," he stopped to think for a moment before continuing, "And maybe a few more babies." He winked without much subtlety and Claire laughed at his antics.

She smiled and shook her head, "Be serious, Charlie. I'm worried."

"If you want the clichéd, romance answer then I should probably tell you that I honestly don't know, but I do know for sure that we'll be together."

"And what about the real answer?"

"Well, that was sort of the real one too, it just sounds a bit cheesy, you know, but it's also true. We'll probably deal with all kinds of terrible, confusing messes and such and we might even start to hate each other sometimes, I personally cannot see that happening, but it is what they say… either way, we're both too emotionally involved with all this now, there's no way either one of us is getting out of this lovely little agreement," he laughed and she smiled with a nod.

"Oh yes!" he eyes widened in sudden memory, "I almost forgot! This is completely off subject but I was going to invite Sinjin over later, ya know, to meet the family and all that. But only if it was okay with you, of course."

"I'd like to meet him, actually. I just don't know how I feel about having him around Aaron."

"He was always more sane than the rest of us, wasn't into drugs as much, but I'll make sure he's completely clean."

Claire nodded, "make sure," she glared at him with serious eyes before an eruption of baby cries came from the bedroom.

….

Sinjin's skeletal figure was hard not to notice – his head bobbed above the crowd in black shades and a mysterious smirk. His hair was tossed about his head like carefree rockabilly and his sleeveless white shirt, which exposed the swallow tattoo on his upper right arm. He was excited and almost nervous to meet the new family of his band mate and friend, it was a situation he never imagined happening but nonetheless, he could honestly admit to being happy for Charlie. It seemed to mark some kind of maturity in his own life too. He just wasn't sure what to make of it really, but he didn't mind the idea of being mature. He sort of fancied it, actually. It wasn't quite as depressing as it used to be and he thought the idea of a more stable Charlie was almost to be expected. It felt right.

He reached the familiar apartment and knocked on the door to a simple beat. He had been here so many times, but now it was different. In a matter of seconds Sinjin heard the sound of someone running towards the door before Charlie opened it with a smile, "Sinjin! You're actually on time." "Well, y'know, me dear old band mate invited me to meet his pride n' joy, it's just be rude to come 're late." Charlie laughed as he welcomes his friend inside. Claire stood up from the couch where she sat and quickly walked over with a welcoming smile and a polite, "hello."

"Sinjin, this is Claire

And Claire, this is Sinjin, the biggest ponce you'll ever meet."

Sinjin shot back a mock threatening stare, "You're such an angel, Charles." He then turned his attention back towards Claire, "You've got a keeper, love…" He laughed, "It's, uh, it's wonderful to meet you." He reached out to shake her hand, attempting to shake off his "too punk rock for feelings" attitude.

Claire found it rather endearing, "nice to meet you too" she said as she accepted his gesture and shook his hand.

"I've heard quite a bit about ya, as I'm sure you're aware." Sinjin smirked.

"Oh," she responded accordingly with raised eyebrows.

Charlie butted in loudly, "only good things, right mate?"

"Oh yes, of course, only the best."

She laughed sweetly, "Well, to be fair, I've heard a good deal about you as well."

"Bollocks… what did he say?"

"Only the best," she replied with a smirk.

"Ya know, Claire, I like you .And I don't say that about most of me mates girls, so 'preciate it, aye?"

Charlie looked at Sinjin with raised eyebrows, "watch yourself, mate," he laughed.

"Well, I'm so sorry to interrupt this lovely moment but I have to ask, Sinjin, would you like something to drink? Tea maybe?"

"Ah, ya, tea would be good. Thank ya, luv."

Claire smiled, nodded, and walked towards the kitchen when Charlie yelled from across the room, "I'd love some too."

She stuck her head from the door and laughed, "You can do it yourself, thank you very much."

He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it with an awkward sigh as Sinjin laughed with an amused look on his face, "Yer one lucky man and I mean it in complete sincerity."

"I know," he replied confidently, "Now, would you like to meet the cherub?"

"Course I do."

Sinjin followed Charlie into the dimly lit room at the end of the hallway where Aaron had just woken up and was peacefully playing in his crib. Aaron giggled and gurgled as Charlie carefully pulled him into his arms. "Aaron, this is me old mate, sinjin. Simjin, this is me new mate, Aaron."

Sinjin bent down to Charlie's level to look into Aaron's big, blue eyes, "nice to meet ya, Aaron." He looked at Charlie, "I've got to admit, that's one cute baby, Charles."

Charlie smiled, "he is quite the looker - his mother helped em out with that. He's very intelligent as well, and he has impeccable taste, if I do say so myself."

Sinjin watched as Charlie played with the baby, he couldn't help but notice the ardency in his eyes as he let Aaron crawl around the room beside him.

Sinjin considered himself to be a tough guy- he was a high school dropout, the kind of person who had spent a good deal of his life alone pursuing something that he actually cared about, though it may not have been accepted by society. He was a rocker.

But even Sinjin felt some sort of emotion tug at his hardened heart as he watched his old friend who he had spent so many important years with, with his new baby son. There was something he couldn't explain, something that made him feel right. It was like Charlie was finally himself, finally who the others had always know him to be. It was so genuine, so honest, so raw, it gave him a feeling of warmth, of peace. Of course he would never express anything like that to Charlie, who despite being the youngest in the band, was always the one most looked up to secretly. All he could do was smile, something he didn't often do, and enjoy the knowledge that maybe the little things, like this moment, did really make his life worth living after all.

…..

The gentle light of a lava lamp lit the walls with a purple hue. The window was open, showcasing the busy streets of Los Angeles underneath the moonlit, starry night sky. A cardboard box full of dusty mix tapes lay on the floor on its side with tapes falling from it. It hadn't been opened in ages, but Charlie thought it might bring back some good memories at least. Sinjin sat with his back leaned against the sofa with Charlie's red guitar on his lap as Charlie dug through the box beside Claire and Aaron. "I don't how much Charlie here told ya bout band life but me an the boys used to make a point of making fun of Charlie quite a lot. He was the youngest y'know, an the songwriter always gets the most flack, mostly since e's makin the all the bread. Also cause he was never like us, not really. Spose now he's not like anyone. But anyways, we used to tell 'em that e'd be the one to retire with a wife and babies and little white picket fences and the like." Sinjin laughed, "Course he hated the idea, which is all kinds of irony now."

"Good thing I changed my mind, eh?" Charlie said with a careful smile and somewhat serious eyes.

"Yeah, you used to say that you'd party on forever; thought I might even start to believe ya once Liam cleaned up. I thought the tables've turned, the world must be lopsided. It makes a bit more sense now, with me and Pat still in the wilderness, so to speak."

"We'll find Patrick, mate. I'll make sure of it."

Sinjin nodded somberly, "I know. I've been trying to track him; your help would be appreciated, of course."

"Sure, mate," he assured as he continued to search through the box.

"ah ha!" Charlie yelled, "I've found it." They all looked up at him with wide, skeptical eyes as he lifted it up with pride, "It's the first recording we ever did, you remember this, Sin?" Sinjin shook his head, "you cannot be serious, Charles."

"Oh but I am, "he smirked with a quick raise of the eyebrow before putting it in the tape player.

Sinjin just laughed with a bit of concern, "you wouldn't"

Charlie raised his eyebrows mockingly, "Oh, but I would."

A loud and angry mix of music blared from the speakers with Liam's high pitched vocals practically screaming of heartbreak. "We thought we were very hardcore," Charlie stated matter-of-factly followed by laughter from Claire and Sinjin.

"Very hardcore," Claire reassured with a giggle.

…..

The last hour was spent reminiscing over old times before sitting lazily on the ground; backs leaned up sat against the couches, guitars on their laps. Aaron sat in nothing but a diaper in the middle of the two, occasionally giggling and gurgling at the noises from the guitars, but mostly just watching in awe of it. It felt as if all four of them had been friends forever, which was strange on a number of levels, especially because Sinjin was thinking in a way of one universe as the others were in a completely different state of mind. But it was unexplainable, they just fit right together. Claire found Sinjin to be strangely fascinating and charming in a sort of mysterious and quietly confident way, despite herself.

Charlie was just grateful that they seemed to get along and for the fact that he was actually pretty good with Aaron, considering he'd hardly ever been around a baby. He knew Sin was still in a good deal of confusion and trouble, but he was a good friend, ultimately, and the fact that Claire didn't absolutely loath him meant that he could continue to play music with his band mate without the guilt. It seemed like two worlds had collided quite well.

The Londoner began to strum his guitar to a familiar rhythm, which in turn prompted Charlie to strum along with him. Sinjin smiled at the sound and began to sing with a voice that was rough yet full of character,

"Take me to the place where you go, where nobody knows if it's night or day."

Charlie finished where Sin had left off,

"But please don't put your life in the hands of a rock n' roll band, who'll throw it all away."

They stopped for a moment and laughed a bit before screaming out the familiar chorus with a good deal of overly dramatic emotion, "Soooo, Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as she's walking on byyy. My soul slides away… but don't look back in anger! Don't look back in anger! Don't look back in ange,r I heard you say!"

Claire held Aaron in her arms as she swayed back and forth to the rhythm until they had finished with a plethora of laughter, during which the phone began to ring from the kitchen, "I should probably check that," Claire said unenthusiastically as she got up. She made her way to the kitchen and answered the phone with a quiet, "hello?" An Australian accent somewhat similar to her own replied, "Claire?" in quiet, somewhat sweet sounding voice.

Her heart stopped.

"What the hell do _you _want?"

….

Well, that was disappointing, I know, I know…. Like I said, it was really only out of guilt. The next should be better. I should probably mention that the song they were singing was Oasis's, "Don't look back in anger." Okay, I hope some of you are still there… seriously, let me know if you are. I'd appreciate it. (Obviously you already know I'm always wanting reassurance and crap. So very needy. Goodness…)


End file.
